


A Solemn Opia

by alexandredumas_eatyourheartout, the_navistar_carol



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adopted Children, Adorable Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Death Watch (Star Wars), Father-Daughter Relationship, Fist Fights, Found Family AU, Gen, How Do I Tag, Mandalorian Appreciation (Star Wars), Mandalorian Culture, Mandalorian things, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Not Incest, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Din Djarin, References to Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008), Tags May Change, The Mandalorian Ficathon 2020, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, eventually, except for the part where Din takes in another kid, okay but bear with us, slow burn because mandalorians are stubborn, this was written for us but you can read it too ig
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27337237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexandredumas_eatyourheartout/pseuds/alexandredumas_eatyourheartout, https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_navistar_carol/pseuds/the_navistar_carol
Summary: A thief who sneaks onto a Mandalorian's ship finds herself in a situation she never asked for. The Mandalorian cannot help but feel the same.(Or, that one Found-Family Au no one asked for )
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin, Din Djarin & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 107





	1. The Hangar

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! The first chapter is here and we are very excited. This chapter is sorta set between the Ring fights and Tatooine for S2ep1. Basically, Din is on some random planet, refueling his ship and someone follows home on board. Anywho, read on, and we hope you enjoy!

It was rare to see a Mandalorian in these parts. 

Rare enough to cause looks of intrigue and stir whispers of legends. 

Legends of warriors that could fly— warriors that carried their armored bodies through the skies. 

His boots hardly made a noise as he trudged through the dirt. Eyes upon eyes gazed down at him. From dark corners, they watched him; beneath stall curtains they watched him; from rooftops they watched him. 

No one dared to utter a single phrase in the presence of the stranger. Not even in the hope of gaining some sort of payment. The people were not foolish enough to bother a man such as him. The steadfast gaze he held beneath the sharp and almost cruel-looking T-shape could replace whatever features it hid clarified his mindset. 

Their wobbly wooden stalls and sloppy products were useless to him. He needed only his blasters, his Whistling Birds, and the fire in his vambraces. He trusted only himself to carry the secrets that shroud him better than his one-shouldered cape. 

And above all, he carried himself alone. Alone save for one. 

But the one was not in the market, so as far as any onlooker knew, he was alone and couldn’t be bothered to make any difference about it. 

He was not ignorant of their looks. He was not ignorant of their whispers. He knew the danger that the wrong eyes could bring and he knew the danger that the wrong ears could hear. 

So he remained silent. Silent through the marketplace. As always, when he was out of the  _ Razor Crest _ , he wore his silence like his armor and wreathed himself in the secrets that trailed behind him in his wake. 

Among the many, a specific pair of eyes followed his gait.

Curiously, the stranger began to trail the Mandalorian from above. They found the rooftops aided them with stealth. No doubt the Mandalorian would sense them if they didn't keep cautious.

Everyone knew—and those who didn't would learn—that Mandalorians are creatures one should never turn your back on. And if one chose to do so, they should be wary, for their armor was like a second pair of eyes. 

_ They _ knew better than to lose sight of the Mandalorian.

The air tousled his cape playfully as he continued down the dirt path. The stranger wondered where his journey ended— or if it had ever begun at all. 

Despite being in the presence of the Mandalorian, the people had assumed their normal duties as soon as he passed by. There was gossip, of course, how could there not be? After all, it wasn’t  _ every day _ that a bounty hunter came through  _ their _ region. Let alone a  _ Mandalorian _ . 

The Mandalorian’s journey came to an abrupt stop as soon as he had turned down a corridor. Down the corridor, the stranger would find a ship settled in the landing alcove. 

When the Mandalorian went to pay for refueling, the stranger grinned to themselves. A grin no one would see. A grin no one  _ could _ . And so they slipped on board. The stranger had no intention of being caught. Instead, they swiftly traced their hands along the walls and searched for any valuables.

The Mandalorian seemed occupied, though they knew it wouldn't last long. Mandalorians were not talkative beings. They never had been. 

Soon enough, the thief found what they had searched for. Slowly, the metal hatch opened its jaws. Weapons. Beautiful and clean  _ weapons _ . The stranger wouldn't lie, they had seemed clean to the point of obsessively rubbing the metal until it gleamed like new. 

A nervous habit, perhaps.

Quickly, they stashed the weapons into their bag. Certainly, the Mandalorian would not check the cache until it was too late, and he was far off the planet to chase a thief. 

That was all they needed. Those few weapons would fetch the thief a pretty penny, no doubt. They edged closer to the exit with noiseless steps. Steps like a predator stalking their prey. 

The entrance was mere inches away. Then something buzzed in their ear. It was a tune so familiar and somehow entirely new. It had them frozen in place.

The  _ thing _ buzzed again. Whatever it was, it had come from a small artillery closet. The stranger noticed the Mandalorian was still paying.

_ Strang _ e.

They would have thought that it had already been too long.

_ Huh _ .

The thing pulled deep at their chest now, traveled up their spine, and bounced off the walls of their mind. It was like a leash in their sternum now. It tugged them closer. Ever closer. Ever closer to the artillery closet. 

It called them. Beckoned them. Pushed them until their hands pushed the door open. Nothing was there. It was a moment of déja vu, though the stranger was alarmed. 

They had felt that pull before. 

It was like an unseen hand that guided them somewhere. Somewhere, they knew, that an answer would be found. An answer to a question they had yet to ask. 

They looked inside the closet and rummaged through the items. Nothing still. Until that  _ thing _ pulled on them again. Two large ears poked out from a scruffy brown blanket. They flapped and flicked at the free air before a small-clawed hand flipped the blanket away.

The thief was mesmerized. The…  _ child _ . It had called them. It was… a Force wielder.

So many questions, so little  _ time _ . They had waited too long and now their mind was on a knife’s edge upon hearing the familiar thump of the Mandalorian's footfalls. The stranger climbed into the closet, squeezed past the child, closed the door, and tucked themselves behind a crate.

_ Safe here.  _ Or so they hoped. 

The child climbed out of its nest of worn fabric and waddled to them. It reached up for them—expectantly?

“No no, little one.” Their voice was distorted and hushed. “Don't reveal me just yet.” The thief gently rubbed its head and tucked it back in its nest of brown.

And so the child stared at them. It was placated by their words… for now. Perhaps it knew how important her remaining hidden was. 

They had never seen a creature like him before. The large green ears, with large brown eyes to match were unfamiliar. And to be a user of the Force…

What in  _ kriff’s _ name was  _ this _ Mandalorian doing with  _ that _ child? 

_ Thud. Thud. Thud. _

The Mandalorian was onboard.

And so was the thief. And so was the thief, with their stolen knives tucked into their clothes. And so was the thief — and soon, the three of them wouldn’t be on the  _ planet _ any longer. 

_ Oh. Kriff. _

There was a loud mechanical whir.  _ That _ should have been their last hope for escape. No doubt the Mandalorian has just lifted to the cargo ramp and sealed their fate. 

A doomed fate at that.

Mandalorians didn’t tolerate thieves. They didn’t tolerate liars. They didn’t tolerate enemies. 

And they, at that moment, were all three. 

They stayed tucked behind the crate, pressed against the metal of the ship's walls. Perhaps if they pressed hard enough, the metal would swallow them, and free them of their predicament. They would rather starve to  _ death _ than face the Mandalorian. Though it seemed quite impossible that the walls would even indulge them with the possibility of escape.

And so they sat there as the engines hummed and the oh-so-familiar feeling of a ship taking off had pooled at the pit of their stomach.

Now they were in space. A thief, a liar, and an enemy. Against a Mandalorian. The universe had a strange way of reminding them that  _ they _ were destined to be against a Mandalorian, as ironic as the situation was. 

Hours passed, though the thief could not keep track. They wondered if the Mandalorian would ever check on his foundling. They were certain that’s what it was—unless this child was merely a bounty. The uncertainty of the situation bothered the thief to no end. To no end, at least, until they heard the metal hinges of the door hiss. They pushed themselves against the crate and willed their chest to settle.

“Hey, kid.” His voice had held a wary note in it. Even through the modulator, they could hear it. And it was a tone they hadn’t expected.

_ Why had they expected anything at all? _

The child warbled and chirped at the sight of the Mandalorian. It spoke as if the man that towered over him understood each sound. Perhaps the Mandalorian did. The ship’s walls thrummed against their back, low and smooth, like the pulse of their heart. To remain calm no matter what was their goal, and so far, they had done just that. 

The child cooed at the Mandalorian and toddled out of its bed.

“Where are you going, you little womp rat?” The thief sat frozen at his words.

_ Oh no—the kid—oh kriff— _

Their blood roared in their ears, and every sound became louder than thunderclaps. Mainly, the teensy,  _ tiny _ little detail of the child’s claws scritch- _ scratching _ on the metal floor. 

_ Scritch-scritch scratch… skitter. _

Those infinitesimal sounds ricocheted off their inner ears. They wanted to tear out their ears so they wouldn’t  _ hear everything— _

And then the child waddled into their line of sight. Its ears twitched, and it looked up at them with eyes deeper than the black of deep space. It cooed. It seemed to think that it was showing the Mandalorian a new friend. 

They were the  _ last _ thing from a friend. 

_ Thud. Thud. Thud.  _

And then there was the Mandalorian. The depths of his T-visor were, too, as black as deep space. But it held a chill that the child’s eyes lacked.  _ This _ set of eyes held freezing fury. 

Behind their own helmet, the thief’s eyes flew wide open. They jerked to their feet and launched themselves at the Mandalorian with the desperate frenzy of a fighting reel snake in their limbs. 

The Mandalorian fell back with a grunt, but that was as far as they got. He shoved them off. Faster than they could blink, he drew his blaster. 

But they were already moving. They charged into the Mandalorian with all of the force in their body and then some. His blaster clattered onto the floor, but he landed a gauntleted fist in their abdomen. With a quiet cry, the thief was forced back again to regain their breath.

_ I need leverage.  _

And then the child’s head tipped at them. 

_ I  _ have  _ leverage.  _

They grabbed the child by the scruff of their clothes and with the  _ click _ of a switchblade, a Vibro-blade was pressed dangerously close to its neck. 

“Get back.” 

The Mandalorian stared at them — no, they were a  _ she _ . Even through the modulator in her helmet that worked the same as his, he could hear the difference. 

He took her in at once and quickly assessed the situation. Clearly, she had the upper hand on  _ him _ . The child squirmed uncomfortably in her grasp. 

“What do you want.” He forced the words through his modulator. He caught a glimpse of a blaster shoved through one of her belts. 

One of  _ his _ belts. 

Behind his helmet, his eyes narrowed. 

She tipped the blade closer, but it never pierced the child’s skin. “Do you know what you have here? What this child  _ is _ ?”

The Mandalorian was glued in place, and he hated the feeling. Hated the sight of her vibro-blade at the child’s neck.  _ His _ child’s neck. “No,” he said slowly. Dangerously. “All I know is that  _ you _ are a thief on  _ my  _ ship. And there isn’t anywhere for you to run.” 

Behind her own helmet, her eyes narrowed in both desperation and determination. Despite the rapid thumping of her chest, she steeled herself. “That may be true.” Her laugh came out through her modulator as more of a wheeze. She winced.  _ Thank kriff he couldn’t see it _ . “But  _ I  _ have the child. And seeing that you’re in the position that you are, you might want to listen.”

The Mandalorian crossed his arms. “Talk, then.” His guard never dropped. He was watching for hers to. 

“He can use the Force. The thing that fills this universe, the very giver of life itself, or some legends claim.” She took a small step back. “He is your sworn enemy as a Mandalorian.”

_ That _ pumped boiling oil into his veins like nothing this  _ girl _ had said before. “Then he should be yours, too,” the Mandalorian hissed. “What are you  _ doing _ on  _ my ship _ .” 

The girl chewed on her lip beneath her helmet. “I’m figuring that out myself. You see, I— I was trailing you. Spotted you in that backwater town, and knew there would be something valuable aboard whatever you rode in. Anyone with beskar like that  _ must  _ have the weapons to match.”

His chin jutted forward. Through that simple motion, she felt the full force of his disgust. “You’re a scavenger, are you?” Pure distaste flowed unfettered through his modulator. “You don’t deserve that  armor,  _ chakaar _ .” 

_ Thief. _

She took another step back. The Vibro-blade faltered in her hand, but she readjusted her grip. “ _Nayc._ _I_ swore myself to the Creed,” she spat. “ _ I _ made my choices to survive in this galaxy. Just like  _ you _ . And  _ I _ know of things you don’t. Like the child’s abilities.” 

He shifted slightly to lean on one side. “Why should I believe someone like you.” The distaste still jerked from his lips. “Information can be found across the galaxy,  _ and _ from other beings.” Other  _ better _ beings. 

“But I have it right  _ here _ ,” she taunted. “So you don’t have to search for it and set you back.” 

“What’s stopping you from killing it and stealing my ship.” His lip curled. 

“He is a foundling,” she stated simply. “Does the  _ Resol’nare  _ not state that the foundlings are the future?”

Her words made him freeze, if only for a second. It hit him like the blazing heat of a blaster bullet that she could read him better than he had first judged. “What do you  _ want _ ,” he repeated. 

“I want what anyone wants,  _ mando’ad, _ ” She didn’t dare close her eyes as the words left her throat. “I want clarity.”

“Why.” The word dropped from his modulator like an asteroid. 

“You are a bounty hunter, are you not?” She diverted the conversation within an instant. “I doubt you found this child on your own,” she added. “And you let it live without knowing its worth.” 

He took a half-step forward. In the confines of the  _ Crest,  _ he towered over her. “And you want its worth.” The silk rippled and jerked with the unstated threat. 

He would kill her if she dared harm the child. 

“Of course not,” she bit back. “If I wanted him dead, I would have done it while you were refueling. Or even now. But I don’t. You do not kill a foundling. There is no honor in that, no matter its worth. And one without honor may as well be  _ dead _ .”

_ This is the Way, _ echoed in the hull despite neither of them having said it. 

“You have wasted my time,  _ chakaar, _ ” he snarled. “If you do not hand over the child—” As he spoke, he took another step forward

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” She pulled back, knife pressed close. “I’m truly sorry, but we need to come to an understanding, Mandalorian. I will not harm the foundling. All I ask is this: you take me with you,” she stated bluntly.

“No.” He didn’t even hesitate. “You come onto  _ my _ ship, steal  _ my _ weapons, threaten the child”  _ —my child _ went unsaid but completely understood— “and expect me to allow it?”

She pulled her shoulders taut. “He called me. Using the Force. I tell no lie.” The flecks of silver-white paint on her pauldrons glimmered beneath the  _ Crest’ _ s lights. 

The Mandalorian narrowed his eyes beneath his helmet once more. “Fine.”

It didn't show, but the surprise was so thick around her, one could have smelled it. The child gurgled up at her like it knew what was going on. 

The Mandalorian trudged over to her. “Give me the kid.”

She lowered the blade, sheathed it, and handed it to him. “Wise choice.”

There was an audible  _ click _ as something metal fastened itself around her wrist, between her gloves and her vambraces. 

A  _ cuff _ . 

It clicked once more as he clipped the other cuff on a rung of the ladder. 

“Indeed,” the Mandalorian agreed, and he climbed the ladder. 

Which left her alone and seething in the cargo hold. She cursed. Loudly. 

_ Di’kut. You sheathed the blade! Di’kut! _

She yanked on the cuff, but they didn’t budge. As to be expected from a bounty hunter. 

Internally, she growled but dropped to sit on a nearby crate. She had been granted passage with the child, but that was all she had been promised. And it was all she had received.


	2. Stuck with Me Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His helmet swiveled toward her. “I will drag you.”
> 
> “Are you sure you’re not related?” Peli cackled. 
> 
> “I’d rather be related to one of the Hutts,” the younger Mandalorian told her bluntly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one in the basket,, I am literally,, in love with them... Din is such a sassy shit and he knows its. Also, our young Mandalorian seems to realize that too. Hopefully, they don't insult each other to death, lol. And of now their relationship is very much forced due to circumstances, but yknow, it's all about the *character development.*

In the cuffs, she  _ seethed _ . Over and over, she yanked at the cuffs until red rings circled her wrist. Reluctantly, she listened to the logical side of her brain. 

_ These things are built to hold things more powerful than me, _ she thought bitterly. 

A sly smile slid onto her face.  _ But whether or not they’re made for things  _ smarter  _ than me is debatable.  _

She had her hands and she had her picks. If it had a keyhole, she could get out. 

Her eyes skimmed across the smooth metal. The cinch-cuffs were  _ built _ to confine. There  _ had _ to be a keyhole. How else would he get her out of them?

...Except for the combination pad. 

_ Fun.  _ She slouched forward and tapped her foot against the metal floor of his ship. Her mind reeled back to the child. How it had called out to her, and how whatever was inside her called to him. 

_ The Force. _

It was supposed to be a legend. Stories of men and women with swords made of energy, powers to control the invisible. It was  _ supposed  _ to be a myth.

But there sat the child, above her in the cockpit. 

And here she stood, cuffed to a ladder. 

Both of them burned with the quiet electricity of the Force, and the Mandalorian was none the wiser. 

She looked up the ladder. The hatch led to the cockpit, no doubt. She climbed up the rungs as far as her hands would let her before the cuffs could yank her back. The top of her helmet reached the second to last rung of the ladder. Two more steps and she could have seen what was going on. 

Her wrists twitched. The cuffs had finally worn out their hilarity. “What should I call you?”

She waited for a reply. Perhaps she hadn’t spoken loud enough—

“Don’t get comfortable,  _ chakaar.  _ I’m dropping you off at the nearest planet,” he grunted back from the cockpit. So he  _ had  _ heard her.

_ Kriff.  _

She leaned against the rungs of the ladder. “Very well,  _ mando’ad _ .”

The child chirped in his seat. He seemed excited that there was another one like him— despite her having held a knife to his throat. The youngling hopped down from his seat so quietly, as to not be caught by the Mandalorian, and toddled over to the ladder’s opening. 

When she saw his small head and pointed-ears pop over the edge of the opening, she smiled beneath her helmet. “Hello there.” 

The child cooed in return. A chuckle escaped her lips before she reluctantly sobered. “Sorry for threatening you.” After her words barely made it past her modulator, she raised her voice, “I merely wished to help you and your father.”

The Mandalorian scoffed as he plugged in the coordinates— his derision floated all the way back to her at the hatch— for  _ wherever _ he was taking her. Not that she could have  _ seen _ it. She had no idea where they were headed— save for the fact that it was  _ off _ of Eriadu. 

“I know things.” Her words were clipped. “I’ve seen the Force firsthand. I’ve scoured the Outer Rim ever since I found out its significance with our people.” She said the words ‘our people’ with the greatest of caution. “Something to do with my heritage,” she muttered.

“Where is your tribe?” The Mandalorian asked abruptly.

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I haven’t been able to contact them. My… father and the few of us left, we resided on Bespin. Now… I don’t know.”

His helmet tipped upward just enough to show that he had heard her. Not that she could tell. “Who were they?”

“I’m not certain I need to tell you that,” she bit back. “Coming from the  _ mando’ad  _ who cuffed me to a ladder.” 

He didn’t even look back at her. “You stole my weapon and threatened my foundling. That’s reason enough. This is the Way.” 

She made a noncommittal noise of vague disbelief. “You sound like my guardian. Besides, he… I contacted the group a while back not too long ago, and they reported that he had gone off-world, for some _ New Republi _ c mission.” She nearly spat the words like they were poisonous on her lips. 

They sizzled in the air between them as the Mandalorian took in her words. 

“You think of the New Republic better than you do bounty hunting?” There was an odd tone to his voice. Even through the modulator, she could hear the faint notes of puzzlement. 

It made her scoff and smirk to herself. 

_ Tough shit, Mandalorian. I’m a riddle you won’t unravel. Not when I’m cuffed to a kriffing ladder! _

“Off-topic,” she retorted. “My father and I are all that remain of his tribe. I have no idea who they were,” she lied plainly. “But if I did, I wouldn’t really be in this situation, now would I?” She lied again. She knew it was wrong, but the question had hit her in a way she hadn’t expected it to. 

The child’s ears twitched as it looked down at her. The foundling was perplexed, or so it seemed. Like it couldn’t figure her out for the first time— like it had been confused by  _ her _ . 

Like every action she had done up until that point had been something it understood, and that it couldn’t comprehend lying. 

Had it understood everything  _ else _ ?

She felt a wave of revulsion sweep over her and suck her into the shell of her armor. It had understood that she had held a  _ vibro-blade _ to its  _ carotid artery _ , and it had still walked— no, _waddled_ — up to her as if  _ nothing had happened _ . 

The teenage girl swallowed. Her mouth was as dry as the sands of Nevarro — had she felt like that just a minute ago? Half a minute? Ten seconds? 

The modulated grumble of the Mandalorian broke her trainwreck of thought. “Hope you got used to the cuffs.”

She scoffed, but grinned when she realized she could grab the keycard off him when he came down. “Like a toddler to its bassinet,” she snapped— to keep her composure. 

“You better like sand,” the Mandalorian sighed. “Where I’m going has a lot of it.” 

She wrinkled her nose. “Of course not. Who  _ likes _ sand? It’s coarse, rough, and irritating. Not to mention that it gets kriffing  _ everywhere _ !” It took a moment for the full weight of his words to sink in. “I’m going  _ with _ you?” 

The crackle of his modulated sigh twirled through the cockpit. “As far as Tatooine.” 

She scrambled down the ladder when she heard his boots thud on the metal.  _ Where did he put the key?! _

When he trudged down the ladder with the child in a small leather satchel, she couldn’t help but soften— but only a little, as he still had her cuffed to a ladder.  _ There’s only so  _ soft  _ I can get around here _ , she thought bitterly. Quickly, she scanned his figure. He had so many pockets, there wasn’t any way for her to find the keycard. 

Internally, she swore. She glared him down as he re-locked his armory, then climbed the ladder again. 

Out of sight and out of reach. 

With another set of mental curses, she pulled back a portion of her vambrace. Instead of Whistling Birds (as she currently  _ had _ none), her left vambrace held her lockpicks. With a grit to her teeth, she set to work. 

That is, until he made the jump to hyperspace. The force of it all  _ almost _ sent her tools clattering to the floor. Almost sent them never to be found again. 

_ Almost _ . 

With annoyance and renewed vigor, she set to work on the cuffs. 

~~~

After they came out of hyperspace, the Mandalorian slipped down the ladder again. The child was still in its satchel. 

She ducked her head so he wouldn’t catch her glaring. “Why are we  _ here, _ again?”

“None of your business,  _ chakaar.”  _ He maneuvered past her and flicked a few switches. The loud hiss of the bay door could have been heard in  _ space _ . Hot, dry air blew over her body.

_ Ah, yes. Tatooine. The armpit of the Galaxy. Where anyone and anything that doesn’t want to be found can be found.  _

She hummed and tapped her foot. “Interesting. Interesting.” She tried to look as unoccupied as possible, if only to grab a few more seconds. She was so close, so  _ close— _

_ Click! _

With her eyes wide and ears open, she slipped the tools back into her vambrace. The cuff had opened. 

“Might I ask, Mando'ad,” She remained in her place. The open set of cuffs was still hidden by her cape. “What brings  _ you _ to Tatooine?”

The Mandalorian made no reply as he stalked out of the hold. She unlatched the hooks and immediately got to work. She walked over to the panel, opened it, and retrieved her blasters and satchel.  _ His _ weapons could wait. She tucked her knives back into her holsters and finally sat on a crate. 

_ Now to wait.  _

“ Alright. Hey, hey, hey!” A new woman’s voice jerked through the air. “Sorry, gang,” she muttered. “Come on. You know he doesn’t like droids.” 

_ Huh. Interesting.  _

The Mandalorian waved her off. “Might as well let them have at it— the  _ Crest _ needs a good once-over.”

_ Interesting _ , _still_ , she repeated. 

From her vantage point, she spotted the woman stick her hands on her hips. “ _ Oh!  _ So he  _ likes _ droids now. Well, you heard him. Give it a once-over,” she chuckled. “I guess a lot has changed since you were last in Mos—” Once she spotted the child, it was in her arms. “Oh! Thank the Force!”

She stiffened.  _ That woman knows what the Force is? _

“This little thing has had me worried sick,” the woman continued. Was that  _ fondness _ in her voice? Come here, you little womp rat.” At her words, the child cooed. 

Almost against her will, a smile touched her lips. 

From outside, the clattering of metal and springs reached her ears. Pit droids, probably. 

“Looks like it remembers me. How much do you want for it?” The woman grinned crookedly. “Just kidding. But not really.” From what she could see, the Mandalorian didn’t snap at her to shut up. Was he  _ amused _ by her? “You know, if this thing ever divides or buds, I will gladly pay for the offspring.”

_ Looks like he  _ can  _ like people, after all _ . 

Suddenly, the loud hiss of air pulled her attention away from the woman and instead to the corner of the entrance, where the droids stood.

“Hey! Oh, jeez! Watch what you’re doing up there. He barely trusts your kind. You want to give all droids a bad name? Thank you!” She shook her head tiredly.

One of the pit droids chattered at her. She didn’t have to know Binary to know the danger she was immediately in, and ducked behind a crate. 

“A  _ girl _ ?” The woman repeated. “Geez, Mando, you didn’t tell me you picked up another kid!”

“I didn’t,” she heard him faintly mutter. 

Then all she could hear was the  _ thud thud thud _ of boots, and the Mandalorian rounded the corner to stare down at her. His gaze flicked to the empty cuffs on the ladder, then back to her. 

“I wasn’t used to them,” she shrugged. Beneath the helmet, she held a triumphant grin. 

She walked out of the ship undeterred. “So, where to,  _ ‘Mando’ _ ?” She nodded at the woman. “Hello.”

“Another one, huh?” The woman looked at Mando, who carried a set of cuffs. “What, is she your daughter?”

“No,” they both said sharply. 

The Mandalorian grunted and held up the cuffs, “How did you get out?”

“A lady never tells.” Anyone with ears could hear her smug grin. 

His posture grew rigid at her words. Unbeknownst to her, the glint of knives flickered in the corners of his mind’s eye. Knives that once, he had never thought would have been used against him. 

“Wait, wait,” the woman interjected. “You had her  _ cuffed?  _ Mando!?”

“ _ She _ tried to steal my blasters,” the Mandalorian snapped. 

“She is a  _ child _ ,” the woman argued. “What do you know— maybe she was just trying to make a decent living.”

“Yeah,  _ Mando _ ,” she said innocently. Despite her skills being limited to that of the Mandalorians, she was still capable of someone her age. Very capable. She wore her beskar plated helmet with pride.

“She  _ also _ threatened the child.” He pushed the words through his teeth.

The woman looked at her with a new light in her eyes. “ _ You _ threatened this sweet little womp rat?”

That same burning shame filled her throat again. Filled her up to her ears. Filled her up until she boiled in her own armor. “He wouldn’t have—  _ I _ couldn’t have,” she corrected, and swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “I needed passage.”

The woman frowned at the child. “Poor little one. Did this girl scare you?”

_ I’m not a  _ girl _ , _ she wanted to scream.  _ Not just a  _ girl _! I’m a Mandalorian, woman! Look past my kriffing gender and— _

The child cooed and stretched out its hands. After the Mandalorian got his directions from the peculiar woman, he took the child from her arms and set him in the carrier bag once more. 

“You still got that speeder?” He side-eyed the young Mandalorian, who seemed intent on going with him. 

“Sure do.” The woman nodded with a jaunty springiness in her limbs that defied her age. “It’s a ‘lil rusty, but I got it.”

“One speeder,” the teenager stated. 

“Unless you’d like to be dragged by a rope,” he suggested.

“Oh, I wouldn't worry about me,  _ Mando _ .”

His helmet tipped in a gesture of helpless annoyance so familiar, she almost expected him to tell her off for throwing her knives in the market again. “That’s about to get old  _ real _ fast,” he muttered and turned back to the woman. 

“I’m Peli, by the way,” the woman interjected. “And that speeder isn’t getting any less rusty.” She grinned. “Unless you’d like to clean ‘em for me.” 

The Mandalorian didn’t move, but she knew without even looking that he was rolling his eyes under his helmet. “Just show me the speeder, Peli.” 

“Jeez,” she huffed and strode off. “No need to bite my head off, you spikeball.” 

~~~

The speeder, true to Peli’s word, was slightly rusted. Peli patted its hull fondly. “She’s a bit outdated, but you know  _ that _ already. She’s as good as before.” 

The Mandalorian nodded. “Thank you.” 

“You can thank me properly by giving me the kid,” Peli laughed. When he didn’t respond, she threw her hands up in the air. “Do  _ all _ of your kind not understand  _ humor _ ?” 

“No, just him, it seems,” the teenager jabbed.

His helmet swiveled toward her. “I  _ will _ drag you.”

“Are you sure you’re not related?” Peli cackled. 

“I’d rather be related to one of the Hutts,” the younger Mandalorian told her bluntly. 

  
From the speeder bike, she heard a faint noise of what sounded like  _ amusement _ flicker through the Mandalorian’s modulator. He shook his head. “Get on,  _ chakaar _ .” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I always forget this but;  
> Translations!  
> ~ chakaar = thief, basically.  
> ~ Mando'ad = literally translates to "Son/Daughter of Mandalore",, a respectful way of addressing a Mandalorian, inherently
> 
> And that's all for this one, folks! 
> 
> hope you enjoyed it~~


	3. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And all at once, the rumbling stopped. 
> 
> Silence fell as thick as the heat around them. 
> 
> The gaze of the town fell to a single bantha that sat near a watering pool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAck!! we are back! sorry it's taken so long, but things got busy, yknow, as life does. Anyhow, this entire scene for literally *one* episode has been split into 2 chapters now. Yep. Two. 
> 
> But other than that, we are trying to stick to the plot canon-wise without throwing the entire vibe off. Gotta stay consistent, plus we wanna give quality over quantity. So we hope you guys enjoy it!!!
> 
> Side note: There aren't any triggering things, apart from Star Wars cursing and like, arguing.
> 
> Anyhow, enjoy!!!!

The speeder ride was long, hot, dry, and _far_ too sandy for her taste. Even when the speeder bike didn’t touch the sand, and even _with_ her helmet and armor and clothes, she could feel it. She could feel each grain like it had burrowed into her skin and planned to roast her from the inside out. 

Sand was _awful_. And yet here she was, on the Dune Sea, clinging tightly to another Mandalorian. 

Maker, how much more sand _was_ there? 

The Mandalorian shifted. That was enough for her to peer over his shoulder— he’d been stock-still the entire ride. The outlines of buildings bled into her vision. After so many years under the twin suns of Tatooine, they had been bleached bone-white. 

Mos Pelgo. 

She let out a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding. She didn’t even know what the Mandalorian was looking for in the minuscule mining town, but a tugging sensation behind her sternum told her that it either wasn’t good or wouldn’t turn out good. 

That feeling was rarely wrong. 

The speeder bike slowed as he entered the mining community. She spotted the residents through their windows and door frames. They just watched. Some were even brave enough to stand outside their houses— just to take a look at them. 

Two Mandalorians and a child on a speeder bike enter a mining village… It sounded like the beginning of a bad joke to her. 

The Mandalorian parked the speeder outside of a circular building she recognized nearly immediately as a bar. _Of course_ , she groused. _Find alcohol. Whatever gets people talking_. 

The Mandalorian turned to her as he slid off of the bike. “Stay here.”

She scoffed. The noise came out as a rasp since she hadn’t spoken in hours. “How’re you gonna keep me here?” 

He ignored her and left the child in the brown leather satchel.

“Just you and me, huh?” She spoke to the little being as if it understood her.

Maybe it had.

The child wriggled out of the bag instead. She lunged to catch it as it nearly tumbled onto the sand. It shook itself off and walked after its father.

_Never mind, apparently._ She shook her head and followed it. _Leave it to a bounty hunter to lack parenting skills._

The bartender, a race of alien she had never seen before, spoke up at the sight of him. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a Mandalorian,” he said evenly. 

The bartender’s head tipped to one side. “Well, we don’t get many visitors in these parts. Can you describe him?” 

His shoulders set in a way that was still too familiar— even though she had known him for less than a day, the signs of _annoyance_ were the same even though his armor. “Someone that looks like me,” he deadpanned. 

The barkeeper hummed. Its head straightened, then tipped to the other side. “You mean the marshal?” 

She couldn’t stop herself from crossing the threshold to stand next to the Mandalorian. “Your marshal wears Mandalorian armor?”

“See for yourself,” The bartender grunted. 

The Mandalorian swiveled to face her. “I told you to stay with the speeder.” 

“The kid nearly fell,” she snipped. “I followed him.” 

“What brings you here, strangers?” 

Both Mandalorians jerked around at the sound of the modulated voice. Even though it was crackly in ways that a well-kept voice box _shouldn’t_ be, it was distinguishable to them. 

Beneath her helmet, her jaw dropped. The armor that this _marshal_ wore was scuffed. It was dirty. It had several dents with the paint still chipped off. It wasn’t cared for. _At all_. 

“I’ve been searching for you for many parsecs.” The tone of his voice is enough to give her whiplash. He almost sounded _relieved_. 

_Why hadn’t he sounded like that when she’d shown up?_

Oh, right. She’d tried to steal his weapons. 

_“_ Well, now, you found me.” He sauntered over to the bar. “Weequay, two snorts of spotchka.” When the bartender (Weeqyay?) slid him the glass, he slipped into a chair and leaned back like he was about to deliver a good joke. “Why don’t you join me for a drink? I’ve never met a real Mandalorian.” 

He reached up to his helmet, and she stiffened at the _click_. In one smooth motion, the green and gray metal bucket sat on the table between them. And he had the _audacity_ to laugh as if he’d been told a joke. 

“Heard stories. I know you’re good at killing. And probably none too happy to see me wearing this hardware. So… I figure only one of us walking out of here. But then I see the little guy…” His gaze trailed onto the younger Mandalorian. “...I think that maybe I pegged you wrong.”

She was moving before the Mandalorian could stop her. Before he even uttered a single word, her pulse thrummed.

Even with her gloves, her fingers grasped at one of her knives, and if one of them blinked, they would have missed the entire motion. One second, the knife was between her fingertips. And the next, it had barely grazed his head. 

And the next, it quivered in the wooden post next to his ear. 

The marshal jerked back. Automatically, his hand came up to his ear and it came away with the faintest touch of blood. 

The Mandalorian took one step to stand next to her. The one motion told her more than any of his words could have. She could practically _smell_ him seething at her side. “Who _are_ you?”

He inspected the blood on his fingers. “I’m Cobb Vanth. Marshal of Mos Pelgo.”

“ _Aruetii_ .” She reached for another blade. “ _Hu’tuun_ .” _He has the boldfaced audacity to wear the armor of one of our own!_ She had never agreed with the Mandalorian once— but here, in this decision, they were one. 

He stilled her hand. “Where did you get the armor?”

She seethed within her iron skin. _How could he stop me?! When he stood right there— he stood clad in the skins of a dead Mando’ad— and he_ stopped _me!_

The marshal shrugged. “Bought it off some Jawas.” 

“Hand it over.” By sheer tone alone, his words were not a request. 

The marshal shifted, “We gonna do this in front of the kids?” 

For a moment, the Mandalorian had forgotten of the child. It cooed innocently at his words as it stood behind a pot.

“He’s seen worse.”

“Right here, then?” Vanth stood up with a jerk.

“Right here,” the Mandalorian repeated.

The marshal went to make a move. Instead, the earth moved for him. From beneath the ground, something thundered. The three of them rushed to the entrance and watched as the sands rumbled and shifted as _something_ tunneled beneath the city. Screams filled the air as they scrambled to get off the sand. 

And all at once, the rumbling stopped. 

Silence fell as thick as the heat around them. 

The gaze of the town fell to a single bantha that sat near a watering pool. 

The young Mandalorian watched in nervous anticipation. _What was the thing? Where had it gone?_

A roar echoed through the air as a set of jaws erupted from the ground, and swallowed the Bantha like a berry. 

Cobb Vanth turned to the trio. “Maybe we can work something out.”

The child peeked out of the jar and cooed once more. She strode over to the jar and picked him up. 

“That creature’s been terrorizing these parts since long before Mos Pelgo was established,” he told them warily. “Thanks to this armor, I’ve been able to protect this town from bandits and the Sand People. They look to me to protect ’em. But…” He glanced away from them and out into the Dune Sea. “A krayt dragon is too much for me to take on alone. Help me kill it, I’ll give you the armor.”

“Deal. I’ll ride back to the ship, blow it out of the sand,” the elder Mandalorian suggested. 

Cobb chuckled. “Not so simple. The ship passes above it, it senses the vibrations, stays underground. _But_ I know where it lives.”

“Take us.” She butted in without a second thought. She had been silent most of the talk, though upon learning there was a way to find it and _kill_ it, she was ready to do so. _Anything_ to get the armor, even if it meant working with the Mandalorian that had cuffed her to a ladder.

The Mandalorian ignored her as he asked, “How far?”

Cobb glanced between the two of them. “Not far. Not sure if it’s child-friendly, though.”

“That dagger missed on _purpose,_ Marshal.” She forced his title through her teeth. “You don’t want to see what happens when it hits.”

Cobb raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. No need to get riled up, little miss.” 

* * *

As they rode through the towering red walls of the canyon, the Marshal retold the tale of how he came into possession of the armor.

“You don’t understand what it was like. The town was on its last legs. It started after we got news of the Death Star blowing up. The second one, that is.” He frowned, then continued. “The Empire was pullin’ outta Tatooine. There was blaster fire over Mos Eisley. The occupation was over. We didn’t even have time to celebrate. That very night, the Mining Collective moved in. Power hates a vacuum and Mos Pelgo became a slave camp overnight.”

Vanth stared into the distance as he recalled the night that changed his and the town's life forever. As he zoned out, the Mandalorian couldn’t help but wonder how any of this had to do with him coming into possession of _armor_. Why he couldn’t just get to the point.

“I lit out. Took what I could from the invaders. Grabbed a camtono. I had no idea it was full of silicax crystals. I guess every once in a while, both suns shine on a womp rat’s tail. I wandered for days. No food, no water. And then…” He finally broke their silence. “I was saved. The Jawas wanted the crystals. They offered their finest in exchange,” he shook his head. “And my treasure bought me more than a full waterskin. It bought my _freedom_.”

Again, the Marshal held that distant look in his eye. The silence was interrupted by howls and guttural cries that bounced off the canyon walls. 

Instantly, the three of them stopped their speeders. Vanth drew his blaster, and she fingered a few of her knives. The Mandalorian, though, didn’t draw his blaster completely. His hand simply hovered over the handle. 

The Mandalorian cautiously walked to the dog-like lizard creature and made a few noises. Deep, throaty growls escaped his modulator. The younger Mandalorian put her hand down. 

_What the kriff is he doing?_

More dog-like creatures— _massiffs,_ she faintly recalled. Stories from her guardian reminded her of the lizard dogs that kept the company of—

_Tuskens_.

They poured out from behind rocks, one by one. The Mandalorian rubbed the massiff a few times, before walking to the Tuskens. In a matter of seconds, they were communicating. Well, _signing._

Tusken was a strange language that involved both the hands and the mouth. Her guardian never taught her much, but she knew something had happened. She felt impatient and noticed the tension in the Marshal's shoulders. 

_Right. These people are his enemies._

“What the hell you doin’?” The Marshal asked.

“Talking,” she answered him, and put a finger to her visor. The Marshal scoffed and shifted on his bantha. “Hey, partner, you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“They want to kill the krayt dragon too.”

* * *

Darkness fell quickly over the sands of Tatooine. The two Mandalorians sat huddled by the fire seated between them was the child, and on their right, Cobb. The Tuskens spoke for a long time with the Mandalorian. With each movement, each clipped sound, she found herself enamored. They passed around a small gourd filled with something ash-like. 

Even from behind her helmet, she could smell it. It _reeked_. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Cobb Vanth’s nose pinched at the sight of it.

“You drink it,” the Mandalorian stated. As if it were obvious. 

“It stinks.” Cobb peered down at the object in distaste

A growl rose from several Tuskens. They began speaking— and their hands moved quicker now. Choppier. They were angry or getting there. 

“Do you want their help?” the Mandalorian retorted. 

She tensed. Her arms were folded across her chest, and her fingers were close enough to her knives. Close enough to grab them if she needed to. 

“Not if I have to drink this.” Cobb refused the gourd. 

An uproar erupted from the camp. The Tuskens shouted and bellowed and moved their hands— and the Mandalorian stood with a jerk to respond. He then turned to the Marshal. “He says your people steal their water— and _now_ you insult them by not drinking it.”

The Tusken moved his hands again. “They know about Mos Pelgo,” he translated. 

She stiffened. _What does this mean for us, then?_ She didn’t speak Tusken and now kicked herself for not asking her guardian to teach her. _You’ll never be on Tatooine? Yeah, bantha shit._

She glared at the sand. _So much for being prepared._

“They raided our village— _I_ protected the town,” Cobb shot back. The Tuskens shouted in their garbled language.

She could feel the tension building between the two parties— soon enough, it would be thick enough to bring a firefight. 

“Lower your voice,” the Mandalorian hissed. He was stiffening, too, but she could tell he was trying to hide it. _For the kid or the Tuskens? Or both?_

“I knew this was a bad idea.” The Marshal glared at him and the Tuskens.

“You’re agitating them.” His demeanor was cool despite the tension that continued to grow.

Cobb Vanth swung to face him with rigidity and building anger in every line of his face. “These monsters _can’t_ be reasoned with!” he shouted.

The young Mandalorian pulled out a blade, “They are not monsters, now if you don’t—”

“Sit back down before I put a hole in you,” Cobb screeched. Any moment now. _Any_ moment now. She could see his fingers twitching. Twitching for the weight of a trigger. “I’m not going to say it...” The Marshal stood down once he saw the Mandalorian— how he seemed to be _reasoning_ with them.

_Reasoning_ with the so-called unreasonable monsters. His words bit him in the ass and burned like a blaster bolt. 

The two stood silent and watched him talk with the Sand People. “What are you telling them?” Cobb’s voice sounded beyond weary. The anger that had filled his frame just seconds ago had sapped away. 

“Same thing I’m telling you.” He turned to her and Cobb. “If we fight amongst ourselves, the monster will kill us all.” His hands moved with every word. Every choppy motion was deliberate. 

The silence that swallowed the air after he delivered the ultimatum was all the proof he needed. _Finally,_ they had agreed on something.

He turned to the Tuskens once again. “Now, how do we _kill_ it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations-
> 
> hut'uun- coward (very bad insult in the eyes of a Mandalorian)  
> aruetii- outsider, traitor, colloquially; a "non-Mandalorian"  
> Mando'ad- Literally; "Son/Daughter of Mandalore" basically, another word for Mandalorian.
> 
> So!!! Hope you liked it!
> 
> One thing that struck me, and I say this hoping you have seen season 2 ep 2, is that Mando might not know Mando'a. The idea of it is very interesting, and I really would like to put that into play. It almost makes sense, and somehow doesn't. But when he listed off all the languages, he didn't include Mando'a, not even in the hopes of gaining some recognition. So, now I am freely running with the trope that Din cannot speak Mando'a, but he picked up a few words and such. What are your guys' thoughts on the subject???
> 
> Tangent ended--
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!!!


	4. Face to Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can’t be. That’s too big,” he protested. 
> 
> The Tuskens shook their hands. The Mandalorians helmet glistened in the hot morning sun. “It’s to scale.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 is up! Hope you enjoy some more action as we *finally* near the end of this episode. We have most of it written out but it had to be split up! More content tho!! We tend to update right after the new episodes come out and stuff :)
> 
> Also SHOUTOUT TO JawaJournalist FOR LITERALLY BEING A MONARCH AND GIVING US SO MUCH SEROTONIN THANK YOU FOR COMMENTING AND CHATTING WITH US!! IT MEANT SO MUCH!!!

They sat high above the canyon below and looked out over the entrance to the Sarlacc pit.

“They say it lives in there. They say it sleeps,” the Mandalorian translated. His helmet tipped toward her and the child. “For now.” 

“It lives in an abandoned Sarlacc pit?” the teenager asked. Her gaze flicked to the hole. 

“Lived on Tatooine my whole life,” Cobb said. “There’s no such thing as an  _ abandoned _ Sarlacc pit.”

“There is if you eat the Sarlacc,” the Mandalorian said stiffly, then directed their gazes to the Tusken and bantha below them.

“They’re letting out a bantha to protect the settlement,” he began. “They’ve studied its digestion cycle for generations. They feed the dragon to make it sleep longer.” 

The Tuskens signed, and the Mandalorian translated once again. 

“Watch.” He pointed to the cave. “The dragon will appear.”

She swallowed. Her throat was drier than the sand. 

True to his word, the dragon erupted from the sand. The Tusken next to the bantha shrieked and fled, but he was too slow. 

_ Far _ too slow. 

The dragon’s jaws clenched around the Tusken, then disappeared below the sand like nothing had happened. The bantha was still tied to the post like nothing had happened. 

Like the sand was as easy to swim in as water was. No wonder it was called the Dune Sea. 

“They might be open to some fresh ideas,” The Mandalorian offered.

“Or fresh meat,” she muttered. 

* * *

The two Mandalorians, the Marshal, and the Tuskens spent the majority of the night planning. Planning everything they could. Everything they could  _ think  _ of — everything that could happen. 

Plans were sketched in the sand, then rubbed over. Sketched again, then blown away. Sketched, erased, sketched, erased—

—until  _ finally  _ one stuck. 

They went to sleep that night with plans churning their mental cogs and gears. Even with weariness within every bone in her body, she could barely fall asleep. 

The uneasiness she felt that night would be  _ nothing _ compared to the next day. 

* * *

“What are the bones?”

“That’s the krayt dragon,” the Mandalorian replied curtly.

“And those little rocks?” he asked again. 

“That’s us.”

“That can’t be,” the girl whispered. 

“It’s not to scale,” Cobb muttered.

“I think it is,” the Mandalorian corrected. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Can’t be. That’s too big,” he protested. The Marshal stretched with a loud yawn. 

The Tuskens shook their hands. The Mandalorians’ helmet glistened in the hot morning sun. “It’s to scale.”

“I’ve only seen its head and its neck,” Cobb thought aloud. “Guess it’s bigger than I thought. MIght be time to rethink our arrangement.”

“No kidding,” the teenager scoffed.  _ Might be time to rethink the Tuskens, too,  _ huh _? Unreasonable monsters, my ass.  _

The Tuskens uttered a few growls, then dropped more stones on the sand. Once more, the Mandalorian conversed with them. The Marshal put his hands on his hips. “That’s more like it. Where are you getting the reinforcements?”

“I volunteered your village.” 

Cobb stared at him as if he had just suggested they set fire to the Dune Sea. 

* * *

  
  


They had returned to town after the plan had been set. They had gathered a meeting in the bar. “They  _ attacked _ us less than a year ago. Killed half a dozen  _ alone _ . I’d say I took down  _ twice  _ as many Tuskens,” he jabbed as they made their way to the building.

She fingered one of her knives. “Now,” she spat, “is  _ not _ the time to be comparing kill counts! We’ve got  _ one _ kriffing big monster and you’re  _ all _ going to be killed by it eventually if we don’t stop it.” Her fingers curled into fists. “Go back to hating each other  _ after _ , I really could—”

The Mandalorian raised a hand and she clamped her jaw shut. “You,” he began, “don’t explode. Not in there. If you do, they all do. The town’s tensions are high enough without an armored warrior flinging insults.” 

He rounded on Cobb. “And  _ you.  _ You know that the village has no shot against that dragon without them.” Before the Marshal could respond, he pressed on. “The town respects you. My guess is that they’ll listen to reason.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” the Marshal retorted.

Once the Marshal entered the bar, everyone grew silent. Anxious mutters had been abandoned in the presence of not one— not two— but  _ three _ armored Mandalorians. Despite Cobb being the lesser. He was a fake, but the armor gave him respect. 

“This here is a Mandalorian,” Cobb began. The girl tapped her foot in annoyance. “ _ Two _ Mandalorians,” he corrected. “You know what that means?” 

One spoke up. “We’ve heard the stories.”

“Then you know how good they are at killing,” he said bluntly. Cobb waltzed closer to them. Now, this one’s got a problem. I got a suit o’ salvaged armor, and the Mandalorian creed says it's his to take.”

This sent a wave of troubled whispers across the dust-filled room. Light shone through the windows, it made every little particle of sand and dirt and dust visible. It made  _ every _ expression of distaste and discomfort easy to see— easy to read. These people had relied on the Marshal and his armor— the armor that belonged to the  _ Mandalorians _ , rightfully— and now, she had seen their respect in a new light. They would trust him with their lives. 

She almost felt bad for having threatened him the way she did, with her blades. How she allowed her anger to blind her. There was no honor in that—

—there was no honor in  _ her. _

She felt a soft tug from behind her sternum and looked down at the child. It gazed up at her and the sensation grew stronger. She picked up the child and a newfound peace flooded into her muscles. When she returned her focus to the conversation, they had finally gotten to the bit about the dragon.

“We can’t take on the krayt alone,” Cobb stressed the word  _ alone.  _ “And the Sand People are willing to help.”

An uproar or protest echoed throughout the room once again. The child squirmed in her arms at the cacophony. His big green ears flattened against his head. 

“I know,  _ adi’ka _ ,” she whispered. “So much anger.”

“Monsters!” one shouted.

“They raid our mines!” another roared.

“I’ve seen the size of that thing.” The Mandalorian’s tone seemed  _ darker _ when it came from the modulator. Darker than normal. “It will swallow your entire town when the fancy hits it. You’re lucky Mos Pelgo isn’t a sandpit already.” He stood taller. “I know these people. They are brutal,” he admitted. “But so is the Dune Sea. They’ve survived for thousands of years in these sands and they know the krayt dragon better than  _ anyone _ here.” He paused to let them take his speech in. 

The young Mandalorian watched him with a tilt of her helmet. His reasoning was good.  _ Really _ good. He always kept his rage contained within his iron skin with such  _ ease _ . She almost envied it. She was reckless, and it irked her.  _ This _ Mandalorian would see her for just a child, too. 

“They are raiders, true.” His T-shaped visor trailed around the room. “But they also keep their word. We have struck a deal. If we are willing to leave them the carcass and its ichor, they will stand by our side in battle and vow  _ never _ to raise a blaster against this town until one of you breaks the peace.”

She almost smiled to herself. That way, the people of Mos Pelgo had to start trouble if they wanted it. 

“Think it’ll work?” Cobb asked.

“It better.” He looked among the faces of the mining community. “Joining forces is your only hope.” 

And with that, he crossed his arms, leaned back against the bar, and watched the fallout. 

The townspeople first erupted in anger. 

“I can’t ally myself with a  _ Tusken _ !” 

“They killed my brother!” 

“They’ll turn on  _ us _ , did you think of that, Mando?” 

Gradually, their tones quieted to those of consideration. 

“It’d double our forces and more.” 

“If they don’t attack us after…” 

“They promised peace?”

“Only if we leave them the carcass?” 

Slowly— so slowly that she wanted to light a rocket under their brains— they turned to the Mandalorians and the Marshal with hope. 

Finally, a woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties spoke up. “You think we’ve got a chance?” 

The Mandalorian lifted his chin. “If you ally yourselves with the Tuskens, you’ve got a fighting one.” 

“That’s all we can ask for,” Cobb agreed. “We can fight, and we can  _ win _ . But only with the Tuskens, do you understand?” 

Murmurs of agreement rose through the bar. 

The Marshal nodded sharply. “Good.” 

With that, the Mandalorian beckoned to someone outside the bar. When the townspeople caught a glimpse of just who he had waved to, tensions erupted for the second time. 

It was a pair of Tuskens, who were standing next to a bantha. 

“Are you  _ kriffing _ serious?” 

“They’re going to  _ murder _ my family!” 

With a snarl of disgust— oh, how she  _ wished  _ it made it past the modulator— she stalked between the two groups with fire in her limbs.  _ “Shut it!” _

At her yell, the bar quieted. Surprisingly. She hadn’t expected them to actually listen. 

“You  _ just _ agreed to ally yourselves with the Tuskens, and now you’re shouting like  _ children _ ,” To her surprise, the Mandalorian didn’t stop her. He simply watched. “You call  _ them _ the deal-breakers, the unreasonable, the lying snakes?  _ Who _ just turned their backs on a deal you  _ just _ made?  _ Not the kriffing Tuskens!” _

Silence reigned over the bar with an iron vise-grip. 

“I have watched, and throughout the entire time of planning, the Tuskens never once incited anything. They want what you want--  _ Safety and peace.  _ Don’t you think that they too are tired of their people being killed? Their bantha being eaten?” She steeled herself and continued, “After this, you can go back to minding your own damn business, and guess who  _ won’t _ attack you? The  _ Tuskens _ . They are people of their  _ word _ — are you not going to be people of your own?” 

If she had been watching the Mandalorian, she would have seen his helmet tip upward. Beneath his helmet, the faintest hint of a smile had managed to tug at his lips. 

She slid back to her seat at the bar. The child waddled up to her and nibbled on his necklace. She picked him up and inspected the piece of metal. It was a mythosaur skull made of beskar. 

“Well then, let's get to work.” With finality in his stride, the Mandalorian left the bar. 

* * *

_ “The Tuskens say the belly is the only weak spot, so we have to hit it from below.” _

The hot desert sun beat against their backs. One by one, the explosives were buried a few feet away from the entrance of the tunnel. Side by side, the Tuskens and villagers worked in the sand, burying the thing that could save them all. The young Mandalorian got down on her hands and knees, despite how much she loathed the sand and helped them dig the bombs. The youngling followed her motion and picked up a clump of sand.    
  


“Yes, very good, ad’ika,” she laughed quietly and continued to dig.

_ “First, we bury charges at the opening of the cave.” _

One by one the charges had been set and buried. It amazed the teenager, how quickly they had changed demeanor. Now, the Sand People and villagers were almost in harmony, though she could feel small bits of tension flare-up between them, now and then. The fear had never left the villagers. It never would.

“Then, we wake it up,” The Mandalorian said, and picked up the child. “We have to get it angry enough to charge,” he said to Cobb.

The teenager looked up at him, the sun glared off her helmet. She stood, and dusted the filth from her as best as she could. The child whined in his arms and reached for her. It reached for  _ her _ .

“No no,  _ ad’ika _ . Stay with him,” The girl rubbed his ears. “He is your  _ aliit _ ,” she whispered to herself.

The child babbled before it squirmed with glee.  The Mandalorian watched her walk away to help the villagers set up the giant crossbow at the mouth of the cave.  _ What did that word mean… _

“Once it far enough out and the belly is above the explosives, you hit the detonator,” he said.

A dark-skinned woman set the detonator and handed it to Cobb. “Careful, marshal,” she offered with a tone of concern.

“Thank you, Jo. And you stay safe, huh,” he called after her with a slight hook of his lips.

The young Mandalorian returned, “Let’s kill ourselves a dragon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations!  
> ad'ika- child, darling, sweet heart, little one, etc (basically a nickname for a child)  
> aliit- family, tribe, clan
> 
> Thank you for reading!! Comments and feedback mean so much to us,, so don't feel shy! Hope you enjoyed it!


	5. I Need One Of Those

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cry echoed once—
> 
> —twice—
> 
> —three times, then the ground rumbled beneath them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE ARE BACK, AHA, so let me say that this week is packed because we gotta get things going thanks for Chapter 11, but first of, BO-KATAN THEY REALLY DID THAT LBLJLJB DISNEY LAKSVBLASJVB  
> any how, please enjoy the fic!

Everyone got into their places. As the midday heat of the twin suns beat down on their backs, villagers and Tuskens alike fell into place. Out walked several Tuskens to the mouth of the cave. One of them cried into the tunnels. 

The cry echoed once—

—twice—

—three times, then the ground rumbled beneath them.

All at once, the teenager felt a wave of icy electricity sweep over her. It was like an invisible hand had forced it way through her chest. Behind her sternum.

She gasped and took an involuntary step back. The Mandalorian tipped his helmet in her direction as if he had asked her what was wrong. Though he said nothing, his eyes remained on her.

_ It’s just like— _

_ —no! _ She cut off the thought before it could finish itself, but it was already in her mind. Already reminding her of  _ then. _

The krayt dragon surfaced. And with  _ that _ , it all went to hell. 

It had chased down the Tuskens and clamped its massive jaws around them faster than she could have counted. The roar of the earth and the dragon increased as it neared. The young Mandalorian felt her chest stop.  _ It had swallowed three Tuskens in two seconds. _

_ No.  _ she felt something nudge her hand. She looked up.  _ Mandalorian. _

He held a blaster out to her. “Here.” If they hadn’t been almost in the middle of a firefight, she would have mocked him for a tinge of  _ something _ (that wasn’t abrupt dismissal) that had lingered past his modulator.

She gripped it and expertly tucked it away. “I thought thieves only got handcuffs?”

A noise escaped his modulator. “What good is a dead thief?”

The roars echoed louder. 

She turned back to the fight. Only a few seconds had passed, but the dragon was already trying to retreat. The lances that had been fired into its snout had hardly done a thing. The Tuskens took ahold of the ropes, and dragged the beast closer— 

_ —closer— _

—it  _ had _ to be on top of their buried charges!

The beast didn’t budge. One by one, the villagers and Tuskens began to throw arrows and bombs or shoot slugthrowers and blasters—  _ anything _ to get it angry enough to charge. 

The beast seemed inconvenienced, if  _ anything, _ by their attempts. Nevertheless, they would not stop. They would not stop until the dragon had moved, not even if it meant the death of their own.

They  _ couldn’t _ stop. 

The young Mandalorian couldn’t help but feel useless as she watched from the hilltop. . A sitting duck, despite the battle that was going on below her. She looked at the Mandalorian, then down at the child, who was tucked in his satchel. It must have known this would end badly. 

It must have felt the tug, too.

She looked beside her where a long-barreled rifle sat in the sand. She knew they were waiting to set the charges off—an important task to have—but _she_ wasn’t the one who held the detonator. 

“Question.” She adjusted her vambraces to full power. She didn’t look at the Mandalorian. Couldn’t. 

“What is it.” He peered through the optic enhancers again.  _ Still not close enough. _

“You trust me, right?” she joked. She already knew the answer.

“What?” He whipped around, but only caught the glint of her helmet as she sprinted down the ridge. 

_ Dank ferrik. _

She ran into the heat of the battle and began to shoot. Almost against her will, memories of her guardian flashed to the forefront of her mind. The memories of countless hours spent practicing from dusk until dawn until she could manage almost any shot. 

She was no bounty hunter, but  _ she _ was a  _ Mandalorian.  _

The dragon seemed to move forward only mere inches. They hadn’t even made a dent. She rushed forward and held out her wrists. With a quick switch, her flamethrowers sent a deadly inferno at its face. It roared and pulled back at the heat. This caused the Tuskens still attached to the rope to fly into the air before they hit the ground with a thud no one could hear over the bellows or the krayt.

She watched as it pulled back with one final, fluid motion— something  _ unnatural  _ for a beast of its size— into the pit.

Silence swallowed their thoughts. The small gust of wind that pushed at her back was  _ not _ a welcome relief. The fight was far from over. She could sense it. The cold electricity still crackled in her chest. 

From atop the ridge, the Mandalorian had watched her shoot with the villagers, watched her charge up to the beast and point flames at it— 

He hadn’t even noticed the flamethrowers.

They held more than lockpicks. 

And suddenly the beast had pulled back into the open with one strong yank. A cloud of sand flew up into the air at its jerk.  _ She must have hated that— _

“Dank ferrik,” he spat. “It’s retreating.”

“Can’t have that,” Cobb Vanth sneered and shouldered a blaster. 

The silence stopped. The earth shuddered the same way it had when they had first seen the beast—

—and then the sand erupted in a hail of rocks and dust. 

She was still too close. 

She was still at the site. 

She couldn’t move. 

She was frozen stock-still like a wide-eyed youngling, despite the blaster at her belt and the flamethrowers at her wrists. 

But  _ he _ could move—

—and move he did. 

With a curse, he thrust the child into Cobb’s hands and leaped off the ridge. His jetpack caught him (like he knew it would), and the Mandalorian sailed right into the line of fire. 

She was still frozen. Her T-visor shook just barely.  _ She was going to die.  _

_ Not today, _ the Mandalorian thought grimly. His arms circled her torso and clenched. Hard. 

The two of them rocketed through the air just in time. Just as they cleared the blast zone, green  _ acid _ sprayed from between the dragon’s teeth. 

The Mandalorian swore as they touched back down on the ledge.  _ “That _ would’ve been good to know.” 

“No shit,” Cobb breathed and handed the child to her. “Still kicking, little lady?” 

She nodded. “I’m— I’m good.” To her own ears, the thudding of her own heart could have been heard all the way to Mandalore. Her breaths came in tight, hissed gasps. Never before had she been so grateful for the modulator. 

“Now!” the Mandalorian barked, and he pressed the detonator.  _ Hard.  _

Instantly, the charges detonated against the dragon’s neck. The explosion churned up a whirlwind of sand, but even through it, she saw it as it sank back into the sand. 

“It— it’s getting away!”  _ Kriff,  _ she hated how shrill her voice had become.  _ One near-death experience and I’m screaming my head off! Get a  _ grip,  _ by the Maker! _

Faint murmurs rose among the Sand People and townspeople alike. There was no sign of the dragon. Cautiously, one by one, they began to move toward the hole of its lair. 

A thunderous crack like a bolt of lightning shattered the hopes of a dead dragon. The krayt dragon exploded from the  _ top _ of the rocky ridge— how had it gotten  _ there? _ — then opened its jaws. 

A shiver of something she couldn’t call fear skittered up her spine. 

The green acid began to rain down on the fighters. This time, though, she could move. But the Mandalorian still scooped her up again and deposited her by the speeder with the child. “Stay  _ put,” _ he ordered. 

“That didn’t go so well  _ last _ time,” she snapped. “I have a weapon. I can shoot. I can run.” 

He leveled his gaze (what she thought it was) at her. “If something happens to me, take care of the child.” Before she could even respond, he kicked off from the ground again and joined Cobb at a rocky outcropping out of the krayt dragon’s range. The pair of them began firing at the dragon’s head. 

All she could do was watch. Watch and hold the child. Watch as they evaded danger and fired in the face of it and the dragon. 

Somehow, though… it vanished. The Mandalorian and Cobb shared a glance of incredulity and confusion, then it erupted from the sand  _ behind _ them all. 

It dove back beneath the waves of the Dune Sea, but not all the way. Her stomach sank to her ankles as the child nestled itself closer to her armor. “It’ll be okay,  _ ad’ika,”  _ she rasped. But even she didn’t believe herself as the child gurgled in… some emotion. She didn’t know what it was. 

In that moment, all she knew was dread. 

Its head rose again and its jaws clamped down on fleeing Tuskens. Clamped down on fleeing townspeople. 

_ We led them to their doom. Their bones will be bleached white by the double suns and everything’s going to shit.  _

She missed how the Mandalorian had taken a second detonator, but she  _ hadn’t _ missed the explosion that swung its attention onto the two armored men. She  _ definitely _ didn’t miss how the Mandalorian swung the butt of his pulse rifle into Cobb’s jetpack— and how the man had spiraled away like a youngling on his first joyride. 

_ Oh kriff oh kriff oh kriff ohkriffohkriffohkriff— _

The jaws of the krayt dragon closed solidly around the explosive-loaded bantha. And the Mandalorian. 

She couldn’t breathe.

_ And _ the Mandalorian. 

The child’s ears drooped, but she had no words to console it. Her jaw wobbled as she stared at the sand. 

Stared at where the Mandalorian had been. 

All in an instant, the cold electricity  _ burned _ behind her sternum. 

The dragon reared back up from the sand once more and roared its victory. 

That is until blue electricity snapped around its teeth and  _ the Mandalorian _ flew out from between the jaws of death. As he did so, the burning cooled to its normal… well, not-normal.

Her eyes followed him up into the sky as he spun to right himself. She didn’t even look at the krayt dragon as its throat exploded. Even as the shockwave forced her to her knees, her gaze didn’t waver. 

He skidded to a halt in the sand in front of her. To all the planets, it was a hero’s pose. The sand rained down around them, but she didn’t care. 

As the dragon stilled and the Tuskens rushed to the steaming corpse, the Mandalorian made his way over to the two by the speeder.

“Sorry, I didn’t have any time to explain,” he said. He was speaking to Cobb, but she couldn’t help but feel that he had directed it at her, too.

Cobb nodded. “No need.”

Finally, the Mandalorian turned to her and the child. He didn’t say anything, and this time she suspected it was because he had no words for the bantha-shit- _ crazy _ stunt he had just pulled. 

“You look disgusting.” It was all she could think of. She nodded to the child. “I’m not handing him back when you look like  _ that.” _ The child curled its fingers around the edge of one of her vambraces. 

The Mandalorian glanced down at himself. He was covered in green slime from head to toe. After a moment, he shrugged. “Fair enough.” 

* * *

The Mandalorian wrapped a piece of the krayt meat and took it to the speeder, while the young Mandalorian helped tie down the child and weapons.

Cobb walked over to them with the armor and helmet. It was tied up into a bundle.

“This was well earned.” Like it weighed nothing, he handed it to him. But she saw how his hand lingered on the ropes. How it lingered on the metal that had saved his life on many occasions. 

“It was my pleasure,” he replied and offered his hand. 

“I hope our paths cross again.” There was nothing but honesty in the lines of his sun-worn face. Lines that she had once mistaken for malice. 

“As do I.” he gripped Cobb’s hand firmly and shook it. 

The Marshal turned to the teenager. “You got a mean throw, little miss. Keep him out of trouble.” He had the audacity to wink at her. She, surprisingly, didn’t mind. 

“Thank you, Vanth…” Her gaze dipped to the sand, then rose to meet his own. Even if he couldn’t see hers. “I was wrong about you,” she admitted quietly. “You showed the honor it takes to be a Mandalorian. Thank you.”

He gave another smirk, then added, “Oh— and tell your people I wasn’t the one that broke that.” He tipped his head towards the armor that was covered in burns and dents. 

They had everything tied down and secured to the speeder. The teen sighed once she saw what a tight fit her seat had become. And this time, she knew how long of a ride it would be. “I should have stayed at the hangar.”

“I agree,” he replied, and if her ears hadn’t deceived her, she could have sworn there was a bit of humor in his tone.

She scoffed. For the first time, it was in good nature. “Who’s the elder here who flew into the jaws of a krayt dragon?  _ I’m _ not the one who has to worry about making stupid decisions.” 

“I’ll leave you here,” he threatened. “In the dry and dusty sand that’s irritating and gets everywhere.” 

The teenager tipped her helmet at him. “I’m holding the child. You wouldn’t dare.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations`  
> \- Dank Ferrick- a brusque term that's often used in anger
> 
> once again, thank you for sticking around! Hope you enjoyed it!


	6. You Are A Mandaloran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her gaze darted back up to him. “And… ni ceta is an apology. The most sincere one a Mando’ad can give.” 
> 
> On a less serious note: They make it back to the cantina and find themselves a new lead with little rest ahead of them. Fewer Eggs Will Be Eaten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you know, we have another episode coming tomorrow and this just means more fuel for me and Gens brains, which means more chapters!! And finally, some insight into the girl's past. (Not much tbh) but more comes with time and bonding over life-and-death situations!!! 
> 
> Enjoy the read!

The speeder bike thrummed as it traveled over the blistering sands of the Dune Sea. It had been only mere hours on the bike, but every little bounce was a knife to her back. She had never been one for speeder— let alone being stuck on a speeder that was meant to fit  _ one  _ person. 

This one was carrying  _ three. _

There was a small canyon ahead of them. It wasn’t unlike the dozens they had passed within their ride. Without hesitation, he sped through the rocks. Her eyes were glued ahead of them— when she caught sight of something before them. 

It had moved.

For a second, she thought perhaps they would run into more Sand People. She wouldn’t mind  _ that.  _

Until they were flying.

The speeder tumbled end over end until it exploded and shattered to pieces among the rocks. The Mandalorian, the child, and the teenager were flung sky-high. And as she was on the back, she was flung the hardest. 

But she  _ also _ didn’t have the child’s incompetence or the Mandalorian’s creaky limbs. (He may have been in his mid-thirties, but she was a spry girl of sixteen.) 

Where he rolled uncontrollably to an eventual halt, she tucked her limbs close to her body and landed into a neat roll. She popped up to her feet instantly. Knives hissed through the air before blaster bolts could sear it. 

There were three assailants. 

All with blasters. 

And one already with a knife between his ribs. 

One of the two left rushed the Mandalorian. 

“Get the child!” the other bandit yelled at the shorter thief.

The thief aimed his blaster at the Mandalorian’s helmet. It hit the left side of his visor, but to her immense amusement, he walked it off and headed straight for the child.

“I don’t think so,” she hissed and readied one of her knives. 

But it was knife against blaster. Knife against blaster and he was closer. 

Knife against blaster and  _ he had picked up the child. _ She froze entirely— 

_ Oh no. _

Mere days ago, she had done the same thing. She had picked up that small being, pulled out her Vibro-blade, and aimed it straight at its neck. Just as this bandit did.

_ I’m no better.  _

Words failed to form, but the Mandalorian had inched closer. “Wait!”

His  _ voice. _

“Don’t hurt the Child.” He had forced his tone to keep even. She could hear it.“If you put a mark on him, there’s no place you’ll be able to hide from me.” The thief flinched at his words, so he rerouted. “We can strike a bargain. There’s a lot of value in this wreckage. Take your pick.”

“But leave the child.” The baby cooed happily at his words.

The teen looked at him. She was unable to speak. He was so perfectly willing to give it all away for the child.

_ And he would.  _

The smaller being spoke a language she did not know. And from the looks of it, neither did the Mandalorian.

The alien spoke up and pointed his blade at the jetpack. He said the same word, again, and motioned for him to set it down on the ground. The girl could only watch. 

She could only watch, struck dumb and frozen under the twin suns. 

Twice in two days, she had frozen. 

Had she caused the Mandalorian to do the same?

He took off the jetpack and set it gently in the sand. “Okay. Here. Take it. It’s okay.”

He released the child. It immediately waddled to his father with a loyalty that stunned her. He scooped up the kid. “You okay?” The child cooed as the thief ran off.

The teen walked over to him. “I’m sorry, I froze. Again. Now your jetpack is gone. Taken by that pile of bantha crap,” she muttered. She resisted the urge to wring at her gloves. 

The voice of her guardian came back to her then.  _ That’s what scared people do, _ he had pointed out. Harshly.  _ If you’re going to be scared, my foundling, then you never show it.  _

The Mandalorian was too calm for him to  _ not  _ have a plan up his sleeve. Instead of responding, he tipped his head at the bandit. “That one?” He tapped his vambrace and the jetpack rocketed into the sky. After a loop-the-loop, the bandit screeched, fell, and hit the sand with a  _ crunch _ that was audible to them even from its distance. 

The jetpack returned to them and deposited itself neatly on the sand. The kid chirped in delight.

“Kriff, I need one of those.”

* * *

The twin suns were  _ brutal _ . The blistering heat pounded against them and the sand as they trudged through the deserts. The speeder had been wrecked. Ruined. Peli would charge extra, no doubt. 

She watched the Mandalorian tie everything up and hoist it to his shoulders. He had a strength she would never possess. Still, she felt the need to prove that she was of good use. Especially after she had frozen  _ twice _ when he needed her most. She strapped the chip to her chest and hauled their gear on her own shoulders.

“I can take the rest,” he had told her.

“I can manage,” she had replied, and had tossed her armor over her shoulders to further prove her point.

Their walk (it was more like a  _ trudge,  _ to be honest) was silent. The air was hot, the sands beneath them were hot, the suns above them were hot. This desert was a nightmare. There was sand in her  _ everywhere _ and she knew Tatooine had no refreshing cold showers. 

“We should be there by nightfall.” To her surprise, it was the Mandalorian who finally broke the silence. 

“All the more reason to share the load,” she replied.

He made no noise after that. She was half-okay with it and considered how stupid she would probably sound to a man like him. Still, she was too curious for her own good.

_ No, you don’t need to be getting attached.  _ she tried to reason with herself.  _ He was going to drop you off at the nearest planet, anyhow. _

Right,  _ her _ plan. Her plan to find whatever the Force really was— and what it had to do with  _ her.  _

She hadn’t known that the Force was more than a legend until recently. More recently than she’d like to admit. 

**_Bespin. One month and three days ago._ **

That day, they had been training with jetpacks. The Rising Phoenix. 

They hadn’t even been that far off of the ground. 

But all it had taken was one. One faulty jetpack. 

She had frozen then, too. Only she had been forty feet in the air. She had lunged for her friend— lunged for her friend who was  _ falling _ — 

—although she couldn’t have grabbed them anyway. 

She had been too far away. 

But as she hung there, with time dragging on like it had jumped into a mud pit, she felt cold electricity spark behind her sternum. 

And she felt a force  _ tug _ in her chest. 

Her friend had hung there. Hung midair until one of the elders caught them, but the damage was done. 

Nobody could keep their stares off of her. She knew what they had thought. 

_ Sorcerer.  _

_ Danger.  _

_ Unknown. _

_ Threat.  _

**_Danger._ **

Every Mandalorian, foundling or not, knew the tales of the Jedi. The sorcerers who used their uncanny abilities against her people. How their secrets had  _ never _ been revealed. Those secrets that she could never know for her own. 

Even if she  _ was _ like them— she had nobody to tell her where to go or what to do. 

She was the unknown. 

And the unknown terrified her. 

She had dropped back to the dirt and ran. She had left her jetpack in the dust with her family. Left it with who she had once called friends. 

When the sun dawned that morning, she hadn’t been anywhere to be found. 

Nowhere in their covert, their city, or even their planet. 

_ Hu’tuun, _ she had spat at herself.  _ Coward. Disgrace.  _ She couldn’t even face those who loved her like family. 

But they had spoken of the Jedi sorcerers so often, stories passed down from Mandalorian to the next. Her guardian had been a pebble among the storm — he against those rooted in their hatred. That they were the enemy. That they always had been. She couldn’t escape their stories. 

The Jedi who waged war, the Jedi who leveled the earths, the Jedi, the Jedi, the  _ Jedi— _

If she had their same abilities, how was she different? 

Even though her guardian had claimed different— everyone  _ else _ had told her the same thing. Every Mandalorian child, foundling or not, knew how their ancestors had waged war against the Jedi Order and how the sorcerers with their laser swords cut down so many of their own. 

Their horror came back to her every time she closed her eyes. 

* * *

She opened her eyes and the suns had begun to set. Her legs had been set to autopilot. They had never ceased to push her and the cargo forward. The child looked up at her with his bright eyes and reached for her helmet.

Had he  _ known?  _ Could he see her thoughts, somehow see her past?

Her body ached—  _ begged _ — for sleep, a shower, and a new change of clothes. She would most likely get only one of those things, and it wasn’t the desperately needed shower.

Beside her, the Mandalorian trudged on. He seemed to be unaffected by the heat and the massive weight that pushed down on his shoulders. The air around them no longer held that tension that had been so palpable it had  _ hurt _ . The situations they had been put through in the few days they had been on Tatooine had escalated their ability to tolerate each other— which was nice, actually. 

She had never hated the Mandalorian. Maybe found him old and a bit annoying, but she had never  _ hated _ him. She still heavily disliked him for the cuffs, though. She wasn’t gonna let go of  _ that _ so easily.

City lights brightened the horizon. Finally, they had reached the Mos Eisley. They dropped off the goods at the hangar and set off to find Peli.

“I don’t know, looks like someones going home empty-handed!” Her voice boomed over the noisy bar. She snuck a look at her hand, but the mechanic glared up at her. “Not so fast, girlie. Can’t have people knowing  _ my _ secrets.” 

“Playing your cards close, I see,” she snipped back. 

Peli only cackled in response. “You finally found a Mandalorian and you killed him?” She looked at the armor that was strapped to her back.

“He wasn’t a Mandalorian,” the elder one retorted. “I bought his armor off him, though.”

“What that’d set you back?”

“Killed the krayt dragon for him.”

“Oh. Is that all?” The girl’s jaw fell open at the woman's unimpressed tone.

“He was my last lead on finding other Mandalorians,” he said flatly. Forced flatness. Forced himself to sound like it  _ wasn’t _ the end of his tail. 

“What, she doesn’t have any family?” Peli pointed to the teen. 

Her helmet tilted away. “I’ve lost contact with them.”

“Hm, right.” Peli turned to the insectoid, who had chittered a few words. “Okay. Well, you might be in luck. Dr. Mandible says he can connect you with someone who can help you.” She glanced back between the two of them. “ _ If _ you cover his call this round.”

The Mandalorian sighed. It made it past his modulator. “How much.” He was  _ tired,  _ she realized. Tired of being told what to do and where to go. Tired of running out of options, credits, and hope time and time again. 

“Five hundred.” She nodded to the pile of credits.

“That’s a high-stakes game,” he ground out. The girl tilted her head and wondered if the woman realized she could cost them— _ him — _ a lot.

Did she know? Did she  _ care? _

“Hey, he’s on a hot-streak.” Peli shrugged noncommittally. 

He sighed and tossed in the credits. “It’s the pot, right?”

Peli nodded, and as soon as the money landed, she barked a triumphant laugh. “HA!  _ Idiot’s Array! _ Pay up, thorax.” She displayed her cards for all to see.

Peli didn’t notice how the Mandalorian’s body stiffened, but the teenager did. Stiffened as though he had been hit with one of his own pulse bolts. The fact that she had  _ known. _ She had known both her cards and her odds. “I thought you said he was on a hot streak.”

“Oh, stop your crying,” Peli cackled. “You’ll  _ rust _ .” She gathered up the credits in glee. The Kilik chittered, and she glanced at the two again. “Alright. He says he’ll rendezvous at the hangar. Then they’ll tell you where to find the Mandalorians.” At the Mandalorian’s look of disbelief, she narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s what you want, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, stop your mopin’! More importantly, did you bring back some of that dragon meat?” She strolled down the street, and the two (well, three) followed. “Better not have any maggots on it. I don’t like maggots.”

At the hangar, she watched the child. It gurgled at the roasting meat.  _ It’s probably sandy and crusty in every cell, _ she groaned inwardly.  _ Gross.  _

Even worse was that the child wanted to  _ eat _ it. 

“You,” she admonished as she scooped it up in her arms, “have  _ zero _ taste in food,  _ ad’ika.  _ You’d probably eat spiders if they were close enough, mm?” 

The child chirped up at her. Its tiny mouth stretched into what she could almost call a smile. 

She sighed. “Yeah, you would.” 

Peli strode in again. “Hey, don’t overcook it, Treadwell.” She lunged at one of her pit droids like she would throw a wrench at it— but she didn’t. “I like it medium-rare! I’m not some Rodian, for crying out loud.” The mechanic sighed, then finally turned to the Mandalorian, “Alright, here’s the deal. A Mandalorian covert is close,” she explained. “It’s in this sector, one system trailing.”

“Are they the ones that left Nevarro?” he asked. Even through his modulator, the teenager could hear the  _ hope _ that bled through his voice. 

“Don’t know,” Peli told him easily. “All I know is the contact will lead you to them.” She shrugged. 

“How much will it cost me?” He got straight to business, as always. Peli liked that bit about him.

“Well, that’s the great news. It’s free. Aside from a finders fee, of course.” Her trademark smirk tugged its way onto her lips.

“What’s the not-great news?” He didn’t dare show off any hope for the journey. 

“Nothing, it’s all great.” Peli brushed his worries off.  _ Suspicious _ . 

The teen walked over to the two with the child in her arms. “That’s a little disconcerting.”

The Mandalorian nodded at her approach. “Okay,” the Mandalorian said slowly and waited for Peli to pull another fast one on them.

“ _ However _ ,” she began. The teen groaned and muttered something about it being  _ too good to be true.  _ Peli swatted her worries away. “There is only  _ one _ little, tiny, small skank in the scud pie.”

“Which is?” the two Mandalorians said in unison.  _ Get on with it,  _ she thought irritably. As nice as the mechanic was, she found her abrasive personality…  _ grating _ after a while. 

“The contact wants passage through the system.”

“Do you vouch for them?” He asked after a moment. 

“On my life,” she replied. Instantly. 

"Fine,” the Mandalorian agreed. The young teen could have sworn she heard him mutter  _ why not add another passenger to the list. _

Unfortunately, it didn’t make it  _ entirely _ past the modulator, so she couldn’t have said for sure. 

“And… no hyperdrive,” Peli finally added. 

She was tempted to slam one of the nearby crates with a wrench. 

The Mandalorian was in a similar state of disbelief. “You want me to travel sublight? Hyperdrive is the only reason I’m  _ alive.  _ Deal’s off. _ ” _

“It’s one sector over,” she shot back.

“Moving fast is the only thing that’s keeping me safe,” he retorted.

“These are mitigating circumstances,” Peli reasoned.

That threw them for a loop. “What do you mean, ‘mitigating’?” she asked slowly. The child squirmed in her arms.

As if on cue, a small frog-like being poked their head through the hangar. They croaked in greeting, then waddled over to Peli’s side. 

“I’m not a taxi service,” he said flatly.

Peli looked between him and the girl. “You sure?” His silence dragged on. “I know, I know, I hear you.” She held up her hands in mock surrender. “ _ But _ I can vouch for her.”

The woman— frog—whatever species she was, croaked again. 

The teenager simply watched her from the shielded gaze of her helmet. “What’s the cargo?”

Another series of croaks and Peli translated. “It’s her spawn. She needs her eggs fertilized by the equinox or her line will end. If you jump into hyperspace, they’ll die. She said her husband has settled on the estuary moon of Trask in the system of the gas giant Kol Iben.”

“She said all that?” he asked in mild disbelief.

“I paraphrased,” Peli huffed.

“ _ Paraphrased, _ ” the teen muttered. “Yeah, that’s the word for it.” 

He sighed, then weighed his options. Not like he  _ had _ any other leads. “Is she  _ sure _ there are Mandalorians there?”

After a series of croaks and a simple nod, Peli replied, “She said her husband has seen them.”

“Do you know the husband?” he asked.

“No. I met her ten minutes before you walked in.” And there that cheeky grin was. Cheeky and  _ insufferable.  _

“I thought you said you vouched for her on your life,” the Mandalorian stated. Peli was getting on his nerves. 

“What can I say? I’m an excellent judge of character.”

The teen hoisted the child onto her shoulder as the Mandalorian helped their passenger into the ship. She walks over to Peli. The girl stood a good four inches taller than her. The child shifted in her arms and Peli rubbed its ears.

“You take good care of him, you got that?” The mechanic smiled. The only difference was that this time, it held no trace of any playful teasing.

“The kid or bucket head over there?” she laughed.

“Bucket head for sure,” Peli cackled. “You never can tell with his type— joking, joking,” she wheezed. “Just keep an eye out for both of them, yeah? They bring me great business.”

She rolled her eyes underneath her helmet. “Wouldn’t wanna stop that, now, would me?”

“Nope,” Peli rubbed the child’s ears one final time, patted it on the head, and waved to the teenager. “See you ‘round. Don’t crash the scrap bucket.” 

“Farewell,  _ burc’ya _ .” The teenager waved from the ship’s gangplank before the door clamped shut and sealed with a hiss.

The child squirmed in her arms. She followed its line of sight… only to spot the frog lady’s egg tank. The child wiggled out of her arms and pressed its face against the glass. She looked at him strangely, then she laughed.

“ _ Ad’ika _ , you are a strange being.” She decided to check on the other ‘bucket head’ onboard and simply left the child in the hold.

“Now, I’m gonna ask you to stay strapped in whenever you’re seated. Traveling sublight is a bit dicey these days. Whether it’s pirates or warlords, someone either ends up with a nice chunk of change or your ship,” the Mandalorian explained.

The frog lady croaked and drummed her hands against her lap. 

_ Language barrier,  _ he thought dumbly. “I don’t speak… whatever language that is. Do you speak  Huttese?  _ H’chu apenkee?” _ At her silence, he sighed. “No?”  _ Worth a shot _ . 

After a moment, he sighed, flipped a few switches, then turned to her. “So I’m gonna hit the rack. I’ve set the nav for our course. It’s gonna take a while. I recommend you get some rest.”

He climbed down the ladder, only to turn and nearly slam into the teenager.

_ “Dank ferrik,” _ he muttered. 

“ _ Haar’chak,"  _ she hissed before it morphed into a small huff of laughter. It had been loud enough to make it past her modulator. “What’re you gonna do, cuff me to the ladder again?” She didn’t have to see his face to know that he was  _ probably _ rolling his eyes at her. 

“ _ That _ ,” he said slowly, “was because you had just  _ threatened _ the child.  _ And _ stole my weapons.” 

She took a step back. “Alright,  _ jeez _ . I’m not going to  _ deny _ that,” she said quickly and crossed her arms. “But when I thought you were going to  _ kill _ me? Priorities get shifted.” 

“You threatened the child first,” he retorted.  _ “That _ gave me free reign over whatever to do next.” 

Her posture stiffened. “Alright! Alright,  _ yes _ , I threatened your  _ ad’ika. _ Which—which I cannot atone for…  _ Ni ceta _ . ” 

They both stood in silence for a second. Her mind picked up speed, then began to race downhill. It had been the most sincere she could have done— was it not  _ enough _ for him? She had risked her life on Tatooine for them and the village and killed one of the bounty hunters—

His modulator crackled as he let out a long breath. “What… what does that mean?” 

“Huh?” She tipped her head to one side. 

“That word.” He paused.  _ “Ni ceta. Ad’ika.” _ The words dragged themselves out of his modulator. He was unsure at every syllable. At her silence, the Mandalorian shifted away. 

“You… you don’t speak Mando’a?” she asked quietly.

“What I know, I picked up from the tribe that took me in.” His helmet was tilted away from hers. He shrugged. She got the impression that it hid more than it showed. “They trained me well in combat. It was what mattered.” 

“ _ Ad’ika _ ,” she began, “it’s endearing. To a kid. It’s usually used by a parent to a child, but...” She shrugged and nodded at the child’s hammock. “I think it fits.” Her gaze darted back up to him. “And…  _ ni ceta _ is an apology. The most sincere one a  _ Mando’ad _ can give.” 

The Mandalorian nodded. “ _ Ad’ika _ ,” he repeated carefully.  _ “Ni ceta.”  _ To cement the pronunciation. 

“ _ Ad’ika _ ,” she confirmed, and she felt like drawing her knees up to her chest. “ _ Ni ceta. _ ” 

He nodded again. “ _ Ni ceta _ ,” he repeated a final time. “I never picked up much. Of Mando’a.” 

Underneath her helmet, her eyebrows knitted together. But she let him speak. 

“Those who took me in— they never taught much of the language. What I know,” he repeated, “I picked up. Survival and combat were their priorities. Language wasn’t their biggest priority.”

She blinked, then resisted the urge to fiddle with one of her knives. “Do you,” she ventured, “want to learn?”

He seemed like he was about to reply. But a  _ hiss _ and a  _ click _ from across the room drew both of their attention. 

The child had opened the egg tank. 

And he had picked up an egg. 

With wide eyes. 

He was going to  _ eat _ it. 

The Mandalorian crossed the room quickly, but the child had already popped it into his mouth. He glared down at it in immense disapproval, but it didn’t flinch. “No, this is not  _ snack time _ .” Finally, he picked it up and closed the tank. For good measure, he locked it again. He turned to the teenager. “Watch the kid. When we’re not  _ sleeping _ , watch the kid.” 

She nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”  _ He never answered my question. _ “Also, uh… the language offer?” At that moment, she hated her voice again. She was sixteen now, and her voice still quivered when she was unsure. Like it just had done. 

The Mandalorian paused. For a long while, he didn’t say anything. But he finally turned back to her. “What does  _ ni ceta _ mean, exactly?” 

“I told you,” she said awkwardly. “It’s the most—”

“Directly.”

Now it was her turn to look away. “It… it means  _ I kneel.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations!! (we got a bunch this chapter uwu)~~  
> -Burc'ya: (Friend, also used Ironically)  
> -Haar'chak: Damn it  
> \- Ad'ika: child, little one, etc  
> -Hut'uun: coward (worst possible insult)  
> -Ni ceta: I kneel (a ver sincere and rare apology)  
> -Mando'ad: Son/Daughter of Mandalore
> 
> ack so many words, but I love their language so much *sigh* Anyhow, finally an update!! We're currently trying to get caught up with episodes 10 and 11 so yes, there is plenty more! HOpe you enjoyed it!!


	7. Beneath the Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boom—
> 
> One crack more. 
> 
> —boom—
> 
> One crack too many. 
> 
> —boom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from the dead, so to say. The most recent episode of The Mandalorian has fed us well. Very well. We hope you enjoy the upcoming barrage of updates because we're trying to get caught up and stuff! Anyhow there are many things to come.

The silent thrum of the Crest’s engines rumbled loudly. The noise jolted her out of her place. She felt something draped over her. 

A  _ blanket. _

She stood, and unwrapped herself, and rubbed the fabric between her fingers. It was soft and worn from many uses.

_ Had he…? _ She folded the blanket and stacked it neatly atop the pile of crates. She searched the ship— hopefully he was still asleep.

_ I really need a shower. Maker, I smell like a bantha’s rear end. _

She tapped a few buttons on the panel but jumped back when the panel to the refresher slid open—not by her —but by  _ him. _

He stared at her. “What are you doing?”. 

“I… I want to change my garments. I smell like bantha fodder,” she stated and crossed her arms. 

He paused, “Ok.”

She slung the bag over her back and slid past him. “ _ Vor’e _ .”

He sighed. “I don’t under—” 

The door whizzed shut.

_ She’s doing that on purpose _ . 

After a while, the door whizzed open, and she was carrying her pauldrons and vambraces. “ _ Vaar’tur _ , by the way.” She sat down on the floor and laid out a cloth from her bag. She pulled out a small machine and ran it over the metal. 

“I wonder if telling me what those words mean would be better than expecting me to figure it out,” he remarked dryly, and watched her carefully, and stiffened when she popped the pauldron back on.

“How about I don’t?” She snorted and continued to work at the dirt embedded into the small cracks and crevices. 

“You offer is useless to me, then.” He almost sounded offended.

She laughed without warning. “ _ Mando’ad _ , would you please calm down. I’m joking. You know how to do that, at least?”  _ He’s drier than Tatooine. _ She adjusted her vambrace. “ _ Vor’e _ means thanks.  _ Vaa’tur _ means morning,” she explained. 

“I believe my favorite thing about our language is lack of, ah…  _ gendered _ pronouns. We, as a people, do not think women are inferior but equal to men. I am proud to call this my culture.” She smiled to herself. Her gaze clung to her armor. 

“And by the way, we never use too many prepositions —  _ or _ conjunctions. We are a people of simple, straight-to-the-point things.  _ Kaysh  _ is she, her, he him, they, or them. Although I’ve never addressed a person using this word, it is there for your use.” She opened the wiring of her flamethrower. and pulled a small screwdriver from her bag.

“I use  _ Mando’ad _ ,” she clarified. “It literally means child of Mandalore. It’s more respectful than  _ kaysh,  _ in my eyes. If you do not know a Mandalorian’s name, you would use this term,  _ if  _ they spoke Mando’a. Unfortunately…” Her gaze drifted down. 

“Our language is near the edge of extinction. It breaks my  _ ka’rta _ .” She put a hand over her heart. “Heart or soul. But we must adhere to the  _ Resol’nare _ for these reasons. Teach them the language, raise them to know that the good of the tribe is not living in our past, but celebrating it.”

It was the most she had spoken since she had snuck onboard. The Mandalorian never interrupted. He only watched. Watched her clean her armor and listened to her speak. She was twenty years his junior and knew the ins and outs of a culture he had been around since he had been half her age. 

She was half a foot shorter than him and had nowhere near his muscle mass. But in that quiet moment, as her device whirred over her armor, she felt his equal. 

“Am I making sense?” she asked finally. He had been so silent the entire time, she wondered if he had understood a word she had said.

“I understand,” he murmured. “Continue.”

“Very well.” She smiled again. She hadn’t felt this useful in a while. “As I said, we don’t beat around the bush. Simple phrases should be good for now.  _ Udesii,  _ means, uh, ‘calm down’ or ‘take it easy.’  _ Gedet’ye  _ means please,  _ Vor’e _ means thank you.  _ Gedet’ye. _ ” She pointed to him. “Try it.”

He hesitated. Not out of fear, panic, or sheer helplessness. But he was nervous. Nervous and hesitant in a way he hadn’t been in years.  _ “Gedet’ye,” _ he tried. 

She nodded. “Uh-huh. Like that. Really emphasize the _‘_ det’ _:_ _gedet’ye.”_

_ “Gedet’ye.” _

“You’re getting it.” Even through her modulator, he could hear her faint smile. 

_ “Gedet’ye,” _ he repeated again. His helmet tilted toward her. Again, he hesitated. But the crackle of his modulator gave him away.  _ “Vor’e, Mando’ad.” _

A smile swept over her face before she remembered he couldn’t see it. “Yep. Yep, that’s it.  _ Kandosii _ , Mando. Well done.”

A noise interrupted their…  _ moment _ , for lack of a better word.  _ The kid— _

“He’s awake.” She set aside her tools, but the Mandalorian held up a hand. 

“I’ll get him. Continue with your armor.”

She nodded. “I’ll watch him when you get in the cockpit.” She tilted her helmet in the direction of the egg tank. “And stop him from getting into those.” 

A sigh rasped through his modulator. “Yeah, that’d be a good idea.” 

Before he could reach the child, though, the radio beeped.  _ “Razor Crest. M-1-11. Come in, Razor Crest. Do you copy?” _

She motioned to the ladder. “Get that. I'll be up with the kid in a minute.” 

He paused for a beat, then nodded. “Sure.” With that, he was gone up the ladder. 

He flipped the comm switch on, “This is Razor Crest. Is there a problem?”

_ “We noticed your transmitter was not emitting.” _

He looked back to see that the girl had climbed up the ladder rungs with the child. “Yes, I’m pre-Empire surplus. I’m not required to run a beacon.”

_ “That was before.”  _ The comm crackled, then the pilot continued.  _ “This sector is now under New Republic jurisdiction. All craft are required to run a beacon.” _

“New Repubs,” the teen hissed from behind him. “What the  _ kriff _ are they doing in this system?”

“Quiet.” He flipped the comm back on. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll get right on it.”

_ “Not a problem. Safe travels.” _

“May the Force be with you.” He fumbled for words. 

The teen blinked. “May the Force be with you?  _ Really?” _

The Mandalorian internally groaned. “Quiet.”

_ “And also with you,”  _ the pilot replied. _ “Just one more thing.” _

Their sighs of relief were snuffed out like a candle on Hoth.

“Yes?” The Mandalorian was on the edge of his seat.

_ “I’m gonna need you to send me a ping. We’re out here sweeping for Imperial holdouts.” _

The teen rolled her eyes. “ _ Di’kut _ .”

“I’ll let you know if I see any,” he replied, then he turned to the teen. “You. Hush.”

“You don’t even know that word!” She was sorely tempted to stick her tongue out at him 

“I do.”

“Ah, kriff.”

_ “I’m still gonna need you to send us a ping.” _

“Well, I’m not sure if I have that hardware online.” He was panicked now. 

_ “We can wait.”  _

“Of course you can,  _ or’dinii.”  _ She wanted to shoot down the rebels and their  _ stupid  _ ships with their  _ stupid  _ rules. Rebels. The New Republic.  _ Same thing. _

He flipped a few switches to kill time. “Yeah, I… Doesn’t seem to be working.”

_ “That’s too bad. If we can’t confirm you’re not Imperial, you’re gonna have to follow us to the outpost at Adelphi.” _

“Oh, wait.” He flicked a few more switches. “There it is. Transmitting… now.”

The girl held back a snicker.  _ He’s acting like he’s never been caught for any crime higher than a misdemeanor.  _

Their guest woke up with a gasp. The teen’s eyes flew to the frog lady and motioned for her to be silent.  _ Kriffing language barriers,  _ she hissed to herself.  _ Why can’t she just speak Basic? _

“Be quiet!” the Mandalorian warned. His voice was tight. Tighter than it should have been— just what had he  _ done _ before she met him? Was he some kind of  _ criminal? _ He was a bounty hunter— what was causing the nerves? 

He had flown out of a krayt dragon’s jaws without so much as a stutter. But here he was, in his own ship, sweating to high heaven over…  _ New Republic pilots. _

_ “What’s that?” _

“Ah, nothing. The hypervac is drawing off the exhaust manifold,” he replied. Beneath the helmet, the girl simply stared.

_ Exhaust manifolds? That’s his best excuse so far. _

The frog lady squeaked again and tried to grab his attention.

_ “Carson, can you switch over to channel two?” _

“ _ Copy _ ,” the other pilot—  _ Carson _ — replied.

_ “Was your craft in proximity of the New Republic Correctional Transport, Bothan-Five?” _

Her jaw dropped.  _ What was he doing by a kriffing prison? _

“Hold on.” He barely manages to get the words out before he sent them soaring.

_ “We got a runner.” _

_ “I’m on it.” _

Soaring like she’d never flown before. Her guardian had trained her. He had trained her well. She could fly most ships she laid her hands on— granted, that hadn’t been many yet, but there would be more— and she could park a speeder without so much as a whisper. 

_ Kriff, _ her mind told her. Against her own will.  _ He’s good.  _

Even in the nothingness of space— even with no solar winds or asteroids or comets— the Mandalorian flew. Her stomach clawed at the muscles of her abdomen as he veered the ship down to the nearest planet. 

“Just hit the hyperdrive!” Her shout could barely be heard against the roars of the engine. 

“I  _ can’t _ ,” he yelled back. “Not with her.” 

  
  


“Razor Crest,  _ stand down. We will fire. I repeat, we will fire.” _

She jerked back into her seat— and lucky thing, too, because the next thing she knew, he yanked the ship into the atmosphere. 

_ Maker, _ there were a lot of clouds.  _ Maybe we can lose them here, _ her dangerously hopeful mind dared to suggest. Even though she knew it would be too good to be true. 

And then they were falling. Immediately, she took back everything she had said about the Mandalorian being a good flyer.  _ Everything _ . She was going to die and it was because a  _ stupid _ bucket-brain didn’t want to talk to New Republic patrollers—

—until he hit the thrusters again, and they were whistling through an ice canyon with silver-sliver-sharp knives of ice beneath and around them if they messed up. 

If  _ he _ messed up. 

The  _ Crest _ ’s very bones seemed to wail at them in protest as he threw the ship into a sharp turn. It hit the icy ground and skidded. 

It  _ skidded. _

It skidded along the ice like a bad puck and finally settled under an overhang. She heard the Mandalorian sigh as the New Republic pilots whizzed by in the same canyon slot without seeing them. 

Immediately, though, her body was on high alert— because  _ kriff _ , that icy-cold electricity that was annoyingly pushing behind her sternum didn’t know how to give her a  _ break _ .  _ “Mando’ad,” _ she said slowly, “we need to get out of here.” 

“Not yet,” he told her quietly. That  _ not yet _ would be their undoing. The cold electricity popped and snapped like a whip. “Not until I know they’re gone.” 

_ Boom, boom, boom. _

Heavy cracks skittered across the ice. The epicenter? The  _ Razor Crest. _

_ Boom, boom, boom,  _ went her heart. “Get us out of here.” 

She felt the high-wire tension in his limbs better than she saw it, and the Mandalorian leaned over the console to flick switches and get the engines back online. 

_ Boom— _

One crack more. 

_ —boom— _

One crack too many. 

**_—boom._ **

The  _ Razor Crest _ fell like a child’s toy. Only the damage was real. 

_ The child, _ her mind sang. Too slow. 

At the impact, she crashed into the wall. At the impact, she knew no more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations  
> ~ vor'e: thank you  
> ~ gedet'ye: please  
> ~ udesii: calm down, or take it easy  
> ~ ka'rta: heart, one's very soul  
> ~ kaysh: pronouns: he/him, she/her, they/them  
> ~ Vaa'tur: morning  
> ~ Di'kut: idiot, useless individual etc  
> ~ kandosii: well done  
> ~ or'dinii: moron, fool
> 
> that's all!! there was a lot for this one, and plenty more to come! Anywho, thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed it!! Feedback is highly appreciated, we love to talk about theories and such :)<


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His chest had tightened at the sight of the teen as she dropped to the ground. She didn’t move—
> 
> Why won’t she move?
> 
> He found himself glued to his spot, weighed down by his own feet. Stupidly, he stood there. Stupidly, he watched as the creature reared down on her. 
> 
> Stupidly, the trained bounty hunter was frozen as though he had been made of ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey wassup lmao tis I, Gen, attempting to upload a chapter for the first time. Also, this *might* not get continued, due to Cass and I finding a new hyperfixation (a.k.a. BNHA). Fair warning, I guess? I love our feral knife child and there was a pretty heavy reveal to come in ch 9, but if that doesn’t get posted,,, @JawaJournalist we’ll DM you

Her skull ached like nothing else. The teen twisted her head, before she shot out of her place on the floor. “The kid.” She stumbled forward and caught herself on the seat. “Where’s the kid?”

The Mandalorian looked around. “He isn’t with you?”

The teen shook her head, but was interrupted by the frog lady, who croaked frantically and tugged at The Mandalorians cape.

“I’ll find you eggs don’t worry,” he said. He descended to the hangar, and paused, before he turned to the teen. “I’ll find the kid, too.”

“Right,” she swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to her feet. She attempted to peer out the windows of the cockpit, but only found sheets of ice that obscured her view. “Maker, I  _ told _ him to go. Those  _ karking  _ New Repubs. This poor ship…” She almost crumpled back to the floor as realization dawned on her. 

_ We can’t get out. _

She looked at the frog lady, who croaked quietly. The temperature wasn’t getting any warmer in this metal hunk, and soon enough it would get too low for her amphibian blood.

The teen shivered involuntarily at the implications of their situation. “We’re going to get out of this, I promise.”

_I promise —_ those words had been meant for _the_ _frog lady_ , but it hadn’t felt like they were.

The girl scaled down the icy rungs of the ladder. The main room was a  _ mess _ . Crates and supplies had been scattered across the ship's floor in disarray — not to mention the great big hole that gaped at them from the ship's side. She watched as ice and snow blew into the hull, every gust of wind dropped the temperature, every delicate flake would bring them to their doom.

The teen walked to the Mandalorian, who had long since found the eggs. He turned and found the child was nestled between his arms.

“Little  _ ad’ika _ , always running off.” She let out a sigh through her teeth, but found that she could never scold the child. “You had me worried, little one.”

It merely cooed, and flashed a tiny smile. She shook her head, and eased against the wall. “Damage is severe.”

“Yes,” he said, before moving to make a fire. Frog lady waddled down the ladder and squealed happily at the sight of her eggs.

The Mandalorian went to her and offered her a blanket, “If you hadn’t guessed we’re in a tight spot, he handed the kid a rations box. “The main power drive is not responding and the hull has lost its integrity. I suspect the temperature will drop significantly when night falls. I’ll have a better idea of our prospects at that time.”

She shivered. “We can’t stay here. We’ll freeze.”

Frog lady croaked frantically at this — as if she agreed with her.

“I’m sorry, lady. I don’t understand Frog.” The Mandalorian turned to the teen. “As I said, whatever it is can wait till morning. I recommend you get some sleep.”

She started at his hand. The one that held a blanket. She took it begrudgingly and faced away from him.  _ Why am I going along with this? _

Despite her attempts to stay awake, darkness crashed over her like a hailstorm. She was out before she could even think about staying awake. 

~~~

“Wake up, Mandalorians. This cannot wait until morning.”

Both jolted awake at the sound of the droid’s voice. Immediately, she grasped a knife between fingers that moved too slowly.

“Do not be alarmed,” the frog lady explained. “I bypassed the droid’s security protocols and accessed its vocabulator.” 

The teen sheathed her knife with a mutinous phrase stolen from Peli — “Oh, and that’s all?”

The Mandalorian ignored her comment, and lowered his blaster. “What the hell are you doing? That droid is a killer.”

The teen looked at him incredulously. A  _ what.  _ She once again realized how little she knew of this man, yet twice he had saved her life. It irked her. Then again, the life of a bounty hunter is unpredictable.

_ What kind of bounty hunter goes snooping around New Republic prison transports? _

“These are the last brood of my life cycle.” Her words echoed through the hull. The teen felt colder now. She was more of a hollowed shell than anything.

_ Her children… _

“My husband has risked his life to carve  out an existence for us on the only planet that is hospitable to our species. We fought too hard and suffered too much to resign ourselves to the extinction of our family line. I must demand that you hold true to the deal that you agreed to.”

The child looked between the three of them and whimpered. The teen reached for the kid and rubbed its ears. “I know,  _ ad’ika _ . I know.” She understood the severity of this situation, and she hoped with every fibre of her being that she wouldn’t freeze to death in this icy hellhole.

She waited for his word, quietly. Only, what he said silently stunned her.

“Look, lady, the deal is off. We’re lucky if we get off this frozen tomb with our  _ lives, _ ” he dismissed her, and crossed his arms once again.

“ _ Mando’ad— _ ” Her words were stifled by a warning glance.

“I thought honoring one’s word was part of the Mandalorian code,” the droid’s voice droned. “I guess those are just stories for  _ children _ .” 

Her words — even through the droid’s vocabulator — burned hotter than the twin suns of Tatooine.

“This,” he ground out, “was  _ not  _ part of the deal.”

A part of her wanted to scream. They were entirely helpless in this situation, and all he was concerned about was— 

“Are you kriffing  _ joking?” _ As both of their heads snapped toward her, she involuntarily flinched back. “Listen,  _ Mando’ad,  _ the deal didn’t  _ involve _ a NewRep chase down an ice canyon! Are you going to take a deal over your  _ life?” _ Her voice fell quieter and she glanced toward the egg tank. “Over the life of the  _ kid?” _

He glanced between the two, then subtly tilted his helmet towards the gaping hole in the side of his ship. He got up without a word and grabbed a toolbox. She watched him exit the ship with the child as it toddled behind him. She got up and followed him.

_ Might as well make all my mechanics training useful. _

“How ‘bout you come over here, give me a hand?” His question was directed to the kid. He hadn’t seen the teenager exit the ship. “Make yourself useful,” he sighed.

The kid gurgled.

“So this is what you’ve come to, yeah? Asking the  _ ad’ika  _ for help?” She crouched down and watched him fuse a few wires together. Probably the ones that routed power to the cockpit.

He grunted. “Save your humor for another time.”

Again, the kid made a noise and did a little dance.

“He’s trying to show us something,” she walked over to the child, and fisted her hips. The Mandalorian sighed and turned back to the machinery until the child started to gurgle and whine.

“Hey kid,” he called after him. With no response, its ears drooped and both the teen and his kid began to walk away. “I said, hey—” 

And they were already ’round the corner.

He stumbled to his feet. “Where are you going? Come back here!”

They stood at the foot of the entrance to an ice tunnel. The frog lady’s tracks imprinted in the snow. “Where did she go?”

She pointed at the tracks. “Down this tunnel, if the tracks weren’t a dead give-away, Mando.”

He shook his head and walked down the icy tunnel. She picked up the child and followed him.. The further along they went, the more wary the teen grew. That cold electricity felt…  _ frostier _ as they passed through the icy walls of the caverns. It snapped and crackled behind her sternum. 

And then the frog lady croaked at the sight of them. 

_ She… had found a hot spring? _

“There you are.” He sighed at the sight of her. “You can’t leave the ship. It’s not safe out here.”

The teen’s gaze wandered about the cave and she set the kid down. It was so… empty. Completely empty. Even before, this planet had a distinct thrum. As subtle as it was, the Force was  _ everywhere _ .

_ Even frozen tombs. _

The lack of that subtle buzz that she had become so accustomed to alarmed her, sent her on edge. The hair at the back of her neck prickled.  _ Danger. _

She whipped around yet there was nothing. Nothing but the hot springs and the four of them. Still, the electricity pierced her sternum, she froze.

“Let’s gather these up.” The Mandalorian crouched down and began to pick the eggs up and carefully return them to their tank. 

“ _ Mando’ad _ ,” she whispered, and absently reached for a few eggs and placed them in the tank.

The frog lady croaked in protest and waded back into the warm pools. Of course, the frog lady was right in her element, whereas the teen could not be happier to get out of this cavern and return to the safety of the  _ Crest _ .

“I know it’s warm. But night’s coming fast, and I can’t protect you out here.” He glanced to the side and spotted the kid grabbing another egg.

“No.  _ No. _ ” He waved his winger at him, and the child acquiesced with a whine.

There were so many eggs, the teen hadn’t even noticed the child wander off to do Maker-knows-what. She slowed down and felt something stir within her chest.

_ What are you trying to tell me?  _ she cried out to the invisible lightning rod behind her sternum. 

Nothing.

She suddenly missed the blurry faces in her head. She missed the people that had taken hold of her long ago.  _ They _ would have known what to do about all this Force nonsense.

“ _ Mando’ad _ .” This time, she was louder. Her gaze was fixed on the eggs. 

“What,” he ground out, “is it?”

“Here’s a few new words for you, Mando.” She started as the ground began to rumble. The child let out a cry of fear as it ran to the Mandalorian — its father — just as it had done on Tatooine. 

Both Mandalorians turned around to see hundreds of spider-like creatures rise from the shadowy depths of the cavern. Now the electricity behind her sternum burned and begged her body to move forward. Ironically, she was frozen in place.

“ _ Viinir. Iviin’yc.” _ She could barely get the words past her lips before the largest of the spiders let out a guttural roar.

“Run.  _ Fast _ .”

The frog lady was the first priority, then the child. The Mandalorian rushed them forward. “Go! Go, go, back to the ship!”

It took her a moment, but that frigid electricity thrust her forward. She pulled out her blaster and shot at every spider she could. But even as she hit her mark, and the spider fell dead without another twitch of its mandibles, five more crawled out of the crevices in the ice in place of the one she had shot. With that, she turned and ran. The path to the ship felt endless.

Her heart thundered against her chest, just as the creature's roars and screeches echoed off the ice walls. She saw the Mandalorian pause, and faintly, he titled his visor towards her, and lifted his right vambrace. 

_ Fire. _

She nodded, and activated the flamethrower at full capacity. In a bright cloud of orange, the set the creatures ablaze. 

_ Not enough,  _ her mind oh-so-helpfully supplied.

As soon as the flames were lit, they were trampled upon by the overwhelming amount of spiders. She shut off her flamethrower and ran. She followed the Mandalorian blindly, not daring to look back. He was the only one that fended the loathsome things off. She willed her hand to reach for the blaster 

_ Come on! You are a Mandalorian, for the Maker’s sake! Remember what  _ buir _ taught you. _

She resumed her regularly scheduled target practice with the spiders.

The creatures had gained on them. They poured out from every crack and crevice in the ice, and soon enough the trio and the child were going to be surrounded, swallowed whole by these creatures. 

Then she spotted the explosives he had planted on the ice. She waited. Waited for them to flicker bright red before they would combust with a single click. Waited for them to make any sound, waited for them to activate. She stood glued in place, unable to feel anything but the skitter of their legs across the snow.

“ _ Kid! _ ”

The world had been dipped in quicksand. Everything was slow—

_ —too slow—  _

—the charges didn’t go off.

With the jaws of death dripping over her head, she stood frozen. 

She was frightened, not just for her own life, but that of the frog lady, and her children, and the Mandalorian, and  _ his  _ child. She was so angry that those New Republic fighters had intervened with their mission and now she was going to  _ die _ by that hand of this creature. She was frightened. Frightened, frozen, and now  _ furious _ . 

And she  _ hated  _ it.

The spider reached down with it’s beaked mouth open wide. She screamed, and raised her hands in an attempt to somehow make it disappear. Her eyes squeezed shut behind her helmet and her shoulders began to quiver. She had failed. 

Even now, she felt nothing, 

nothing, 

_ nothing,  _

as shards of ice crumbled around her. 

His chest had tightened at the sight of the teen as she dropped to the ground. She didn’t move—

_ Why won’t she move? _

He found himself glued to his spot, weighed down by his own feet. Stupidly, he stood there. Stupidly, he watched as the creature reared down on her. 

_ Stupidly _ , the trained bounty hunter was frozen as though he had been made of ice.

He lunged to go after her until the walls that surrounded them trembled by some massive force. He looked down at the kid, only to see that the child was focused on  _ her _ .

The ice around the creature collapsed, as she sat that, hands raised in defense. There was a piercing hum, so faint and sharp, he would have missed it. Everything was going too quickly, and then all at once time had stopped, just for them. She pulled her hands down, and stared in disbelief.

She could feel that same mind-numbing electricity dance across her fingertips until finally it sank back behind her sternum. She felt something pull her up. Something familiar.  _ Someone.  _

_ The Mandalorian. _ __   
  


“Hurry. We don’t have much time.”

And they were running again. The mouth of the cave was close. _So_ _close_. She gasped for a breath when they left the tunnels. She could _feel_ the spiders as the skittered across the snow. The spiders were still in pursuit.

All she could hope for was that the big one was dead. 

They had gotten to the ship, but the spiders were already on their tail. “Get in the ship,” he commanded, and the frog lady scrambled to the cockpit with the kid. The teen shot at the creatures again, thought the longer she went on, the more blurred her eyesight had gotten. “I’ll--”

“Get in the  _ ship _ ,” he repeated, before he crushed the spider that had jumped for her face.

“O-okay.” She disappeared into the hull. Now it was his turn.

They finally made it to the cockpit, but the doors wouldn’t close. Those damned spiders twitched and writhed and wrestled to get into their only safe space. She watched, mesmerised by the flames. 

As the doors  _ finally _ snapped shut, exhaustion slammed into her like a tidal wave. The walls of the  _ Razor Crest _ began to dim at the corners of her vision, and the shrill squeaks of the child faded into the background. 

_ Get up! _ she shouted at herself. It was like she had taken a step back from her body’s metaphorical cockpit. She couldn’t control her body as she slumped onto the floor. 

She couldn’t even look up. She couldn’t even look up at the Mandalorian as he stood like a shield before the door. 

_ Get up _ , she pleaded. Instead, the universe flipped the middle finger at her wishes and she sank into the black hole of sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “oh the Force made her pass out” “oh it’s from using her abilities” “oh she’s gotta be so tired” no we got so sick of the ice planet that we made her black out so we didn’t have to write it

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is definitely going to be canon-compliant and we aren't quite sure but we are possibly going to be on track with what the series is doing. And if the series does something we don't like, we are probably gonna do it how we want. But either way, this story is for those of you that believe in Found Family.
> 
> HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!!!
> 
> (we definitely enjoyed writing it)


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